


Manifestor

by Heavydirtys0ul



Series: God plays cruel jokes, so that Satan laughs [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), dodie - Fandom, jacksepticeye
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-08-14 02:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 50,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16484453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavydirtys0ul/pseuds/Heavydirtys0ul
Summary: Set in a world where Witchcraft is real, and the government hunts down those who practice magic, Thomas must flee to an underground safehouse after being discovered. Now fighting a war against Witches who seek the end of non-magic people, Thomas must learn to control and harvest his powers, as well as the manifestation of his sides to bring about peace and unity in the Human and Witch world. (Nanowrimo 2018)





	1. Run

Thomas could feel his feet pounding against the damp pavement, blood pumping through his veins as if there was something wild trying to break loose underneath his skin. He stumbles, hands grasping some form of cart, and as he takes off again, throwing it behind him, he hears his pursuers and the owner of the cart shout after him. He stumbles down a dark alleyway, the crack of the sky that showed through illuminating his path between the tall buildings, running on pure adrenaline, he jumps up the obstacle blocking his way and launches himself over the other side of the wall. In his head, he can hear a multitude of voices shouting different things.

“Down, down,” He hears the most confident voice talking, cool calm and collected. This was Logan, the intellectual of his eclectic personality; his voice held no element of emotion, only strong and commanding words. “Take the next left, down the stairs, go,” He follows the voice, slinking down the dark stairs into a busy train station, where he pulls his hood up and blends in with the crowd, moving with the people. He can hear a darker voice, with a slight echo starting to pick up again.

“Get out, get out, you can’t go home now,” This was Virgil, Thomas’ anxiety, a nervous, angry and gothic man who spoke with the voice of a demon when his anxiety grew. “You need to get down to the coast Thomas; it’s the only place for you now,” He grabs the cash out of his pocket and obeys, his hands shaking. He glances around, but there’s no sight of his pursuers. Letting out a long breath, he heads towards the platform he needs to be on and draws in a long, hard breath, exhaling whilst counting.

“I’m not cut out for this shit,” he mutters to himself, sitting on the cold, dark platform. He can hear various degrees of acceptance or protest from the voices that lived in his head, from the soft words of his Morality to the grandiose voice of his Creativity. These two were Patton and Roman, respectively. The two of them were Thomas’ so-called “Right brain,” and were made up of mostly sunshine, rainbows and the belief that everything in life should occur as a fairy tale would. The other two-Logan and Virgil, were much more conscious, in touch with the world around them, they understood consequence better, as well as the way the world worked. Although Virgil could be emotionally charged, his view of the world was charged by fear, not happiness.

That didn’t make him a burden though; he definitely kept Thomas on his toes.

The four of them continue bickering away at the front of Thomas’ mind until he slowly tuned them out to the back of his head, so he could board the train and lean against the window in complete silence and consider his thoughts. He tried to think as Logan did, rational, cool, collected, but only found the voice of anxiety rise to the tips of his mind. “Virgil, buddy can you give me a break?” He mutters out loud, still staring out of the window “This is already pretty bad as it is,” He hears a muttered apology, but he knows the other cannot truly help it.

The train ride feels like it takes forever, every second stretching out over his skin like a cocoon for a caterpillar. He can barely breathe in the suffocating air of the world around him. He knows the others are trying to keep Virgil calm, but he could tell the other was freeing out at the sudden change. One moment everything was okay and then it was gone, his home, his life, he was now a runaway; for something he couldn’t even control.

When he steps out on the platform, he looks left and right before heading down the stairs, burying himself in his grey hoodie that does nothing to shelter him from the wind. It wasn’t usually this cold on this side of the states, and yet, he shivered; possibly from the nerves, possibly from the whispering air around him. He knows vaguely where he’s going, his eyes dodging left and right looking for something, for someone. He walks by the coast, pacing backward and forwards, he wasn’t sure what he expected, places like this don’t exactly have a sign. He was getting closer to simply resigning his fate, returning home to become a convicted criminal for something he wasn’t even sure he was.

He sits down in the sand, feels his soft brown eyes flutter close and allow the wind to wash over him with an icy embrace. He can feel the grains against his skin, embedding themselves into the gaps between his fingers; as he’s settling into the bliss of what he considers may be the last time he sees the outside world, he feels a tap on his shoulder. “Thomas Sanders,” He looks up to see someone in a black hoodie, eyes lined with eyeliner, lips pressed into a smirk. “We were wondering when you would show up, we’ve been tracking you all day,”

“Oh?” He feels Virgil kicking in again, his anxiety appearing in waves through his fast beating heart. “I..urm…what?” The other chuckles and holds out a hand, helping Thomas to his feet. He can see a mess of raven’s black hair protruding from the hood of his jacket. “Who are you?” He mutters, staring at the other in awe.

“My name is Joan, and I am here to take you to the safe house that I believe you’re looking for,” They pause and offer a somewhat reassuring smile. “We’re here to look after you, walk with me, and I’ll talk, for now, we must remain unsuspicious,” Thomas nods, slightly dazed as the voices calmed and they walk side by side. “You were on the news this morning, you gave the government quite the chase, I believe, we picked up the CCTV security footage, identified you had got on the train and monitored you for a while to see how close to us you could get, we had to minimize the amount of ground I’d have to cover to get to you, risk assessment and all, we had some of our best Manifestors tap into their logical sides to try and get to you, analyse how to bring you back as safely as possible, for us and you,” Thomas swallows. Manifestor, that’s what he was. “I’m sure by now, you have concluded that you are a Witch, Thomas,” They continue, looking up at the other. Between two stone pillars at the end of the beach, they stand.

“Yes, I know that I have…I can do things, that others can’t,” He pauses. “Like…magic,” There’s shakiness in his voice and he can hear Patton trying to reassure him in the back of his mind, trying to get him to remain calm. “And you guys…you look after people like me?”

“Well, we’re not just a shelter, you will receive training in your specialities, which is generally earth, air, water or fire based if we go by the original scriptures of witches from way back when, we’ll train you how to control your powers, keep you safe, and eventually, when it’s all blown over, send you out into the world with more control over yourself,” Thomas nods and follows the other through the stone pillars, into a vast open garden. “This way,”

He’s led down some steps that lead seemingly into the ground by the other, for a moment they stand at the bottom, and the next second Thomas is somewhere else completely.

When he’s coherent, trying to stabilize himself as his stomach catches up with his brain, he splutters “Give a guy a warning,” But Joan is chuckling, and it seems they are not alone this time. A taller woman stood between someone much smaller and someone that came up to her shoulder, smiled warmly, hiding a small laugh.

“Welcome Thomas, I am the Director of this facility, you may call me Sophie, this is Talyn, and this is Ben, both my second in commands, and I see you have already met Joan, our technician, slash get goer for all the new recruits that come wandering to us,”

“I’m basically the Jack of all trades,” Joan grins, lowering their hood. “I’m they, not he, let’s clear that one up, followed by, I’m the person you come to for literally anything, if the Wi-Fi is down, if the electric has gone out, or if your just bored and feel you need to talk to someone whilst simultaneously not knowing what they’re talking about,” they point at themselves, specifically at the mess of jet black hair on their head “I’m ya guy,”

“I expect you’ll need some time to get adjusted, so I will leave you in the very capable hands, and then I will talk to you once you’ve settled in, explain a little more about what we do here, is that okay Thomas?” He looks around at the four smiling faces and feels his heart calm down. Yeah. He could do that. He hears Virgil telling him to be careful repeatedly, between Patton’s squeals of happiness and Logan trying to keep them all quiet.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,”


	2. Adjust

Thomas likes the simplicity of the room. It feels like being in a University dorm really, single bed, a desk, a lamp, books stacked up next to a small fridge. Joan shows him the kitchen, which is shared between a handful of other people who wave and smile nervously at him, he waves and smiles back before slinking into the shadows of his room. “Are you okay?” The other asks once the door is closed behind them, they have a gentle smile on their face, encouraging Thomas to try and be as open as possible. “It can be a bit of a shock, I know, I was a mess when I got here, tripping over my feet, could barely articulate what had happened, and was generally just an all-around panic button,” Looking at Joan now, this was hard to believe, with their dark makeup and painted nails, they carried themselves as if they knew the world around them, the environment, they were so grounded in the way they presented themselves.

Thomas shrugs. It’s all he can think to do because he’s scared if he talks his voice will crack and he’ll just break, spilling out everything that had been racing through his head. So he just nods, gives a brave smile although the corners of his lips are trembling. “Can I…have a minute, please?” He asks quietly, Joan nods and opens the door, letting it fall to a close on their silhouette. Immediately, Thomas collapses onto the bed. He can hear Virgil’s echoing voice, panicking stressing and groans. “Virgil!” He says sharply, holding his hand out. The other is in his presence seconds after the name has left his lips, rising out of the ground like fog on the surface of a mountain. He’s shaking. “You need to calm down dude,” Thomas sighs and sits at the edge of the bed, staring his Anxiety in the dark and shadowy eyes.

“I’m trying Thomas, but that’s just…not how I work,” His voice is all but a growl, narrowing his eyes at his host with mock contempt. “This is just too different, it’s removed all constants, and we don’t even know if we can trust these people all we know about them is shrouded completely in mystery!” He’s joined by another body, which looks tired and drained. It was not often that Logan Sanders looked anything less than professional and ready, but today had been a long and tiring day.

“Virgil holds some honesty here Thomas, our information on these so-called runaways is incredibly limited, the best we can do is gather information whilst we’re here, and take them with a pinch of salt, their words are the only knowledge we will gain, it may also be necessary to devise an escape plan should we need it,” The intellectual straightens his glasses. “In the meantime, I will see that Virgil sees reason, or at least try,” Thomas nods gratefully in his Logical side’s general direction.

“Thank you, Logan, and Virgil,” The two sink out again and he stands shakily, composing himself. He feels that he should keep the information of his Manifesting ability to himself, assuming they don’t already know. He steps back outside to be greeted by Joan, who gives him a gentle pat on the back. “So, I have someone I need to meet?”

–

Sophie, who is the person who operates this place, is an interesting woman. She’s tall, with brown eyes and brown hair, an angular face maybe up of lines from her jawline to her cheekbones; when you imagine the operator of underground base you don’t entirely imagine a woman who is soft spoken, cheerful and wearing black skinny jeans with a grey t-shirt. Nonetheless, she is welcoming to Thomas, seating him on the other side of her desk with a cup of hot tea and a wide smile.

“So, you know who we are, and Joan has explained what we do?” Thomas nods in reply, his skin suddenly feeling too tight and the air feeling suddenly too thick.  _Virgil calm down_. The last thing he needed right now was a panic attack. He can hear Patton trying to console Virgil in his usual extravagant way, and tries to quieten the voices enough that he can pay attention to anything Sophie had to say.

“Well, each newcomer has to sit a test, this will determine your skill set, your skill level, and your role in the community,” Thomas nods as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt; it makes sense, what if he failed the test? Would they send him back out because he was useless? Would they leave him to be captured by the government croons that had been after him initially? He takes a deep breath and swallows. “Don’t look too panicked! You can’t fail this test, it’s just a test of your knowledge of what you can do so we know what we can do to educate you,” a small smile of relief tugs at his lips and he exhales from a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. His skin stops feeling too tight and he can feel his heart rate attempt to resume to its normal resting pulse. “Would you like me to show you around the rest of this place? Now it’s easy to get lost in the tunnels, so if you get lost just give Joan a shout, they’ll hear you,”

As they both stood, Thomas pondered this; did Joan have some sort of camera system? Did they monitor everyone’s doing in the tunnels or was it a power of theirs? “How…How does Joan do that?” He might be asking for the sake of security or curiosity but it was a question with an answer he was very much curious about.

“Joan’s powers require a lot of technicalities, their power's are Air, and they have found the ability to configure soundwaves with their power, they have created a series of air passages that lead to one particular room, where they generally monitor all that goes on within this facility; from here they created barriers that filtered out the general noise from the louder noise which would be someone shouting, So if you shout their name, they’ll hear you and come and get you,” Thomas blinks a few times, reeling from the information, whereas Logan at the back of his head was admiring every word that had been spoken, humming in admiration.

“That’s…impressive,” he concludes finally, nodding his head with a sharp intake of breath, exhaling heavily. He didn’t understand most of what he’d just been told and yet he found himself relaxing a little bit more knowing there was always going to be someone around to help him. That didn’t explain why he still felt so anxious, however.

The tour took him down so many long tunnels he wasn’t surprised that people got lost, he had seen the ‘dorms’ already, so Sophie took him down a meandering long tunnel that had little training rooms attached; some with desks, some with equipment, some occupied by people deep in concentration as they built up their strength. “All of the rooms are sound proof and weather resistant, they can’t catch fire or anything like that,” Walking past a room, he spots the short, blue-haired young person he had seen when he and Joan had appeared.

Water span from their fingertips like silk, weaving between the gaps in their fingers and trailing like a waterfall in slow motion, then it came back to the palms of their hands. They began to move their hands in circles with their lined eyes focused intently through the shadow of their blue hair. An orb of water held delicately in their hands, reflecting the light of the rooms to show the small waves created from the center. Thomas watches for a second, completely in awe before moving on along the corridor. A few more turns and more practice rooms later, they both find themselves in an open room, where the ceiling was high and the entire place vibrated with energy. “This is the cafeteria, it’s run by non-magic people, an attempt to show solidarity and help us in any way they can,” Thomas doesn’t feel hungry, he just feels tired, and it’s a sudden feeling too; his headaches and his muscles seem to turn to jelly as he gives out a yawn. He’s exhausted.

Sophie gives a sympathetic smile “I’ll walk you back to your room, you need a good night’s rest and tomorrow we’ll have you sit that test, don’t panic about it though,” She steers them to the other side, walking up some stairs and down another long tunnel. These tunnels look like they’d been recently dug out by a very large mole, the dirt still crumbling on the surface of rocks and debris. “No matter what, the test is simply to help you, most people that come here have absolutely no handle on their powers whatsoever,” They stop outside his door, he hadn’t even noticed them enter the dorm area, and looked around to see rows upon rows of doors surrounding him. He remembered the number of his at least as Sophie presses a key into the palm of his hand. “Have a good night’s rest Thomas, you’ll need it,” He opens the door and turns back to look at her, but she’s no longer there, furrowing his eyebrows he turns and moves inside, embracing the silence as the door swings closed behind him.


	3. Morality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is put to the test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really apologize if I mess up pronouns, I don't intend to, I mess up my own pronouns sometimes too, so please let me know if I've slipped with Joan or Talyn's pronouns.

When Thomas wakes, he feels the crick in the back of his neck first, and the awareness that he is not at home second. For those few seconds where his eyes had not entirely opened and the soft cocoon of blankets curled deep beneath his grasp, the reality of the past day had not sunk in yet. For a few seconds, he is in bliss, thinking he will open his eyes to his room. The realization sinks like a stone to his stomach and he opens his eyes, lying still and drowsy beneath the sheets like a tired and timid mouse approaching life with cautiousness.

His conscience opens up, his back feels sore and he wants to cry. Sitting up in the bed he rubs his eyes, hugging the blankets to him like a safety net or shock blanket. There’s no one around him that he truly knows, he is surrounded by strangers in a bed that he has no memories attached to, with a smell that is heavy and itchy like dust. The brunette runs a hand through the mess of his hair trying to keep his heart from exploding in his chest, his eyes feel heavy, his bones feel heavy. His soul feels heavy. “Cheer up Kiddo,” He hears Patton at the back of his mind and in a moment he rises up into the environment, sitting on the bed with a hand on Thomas’ shoulder “It’s all going to be okay, it’s new, it’s different, but it’s not necessarily bad,”

Logan is next, adjusting his glasses as he rises up and stands in front of the two “Redundant, but not incorrect, this is a good opportunity to expand your knowledge of what you can do, train yourself in safety, you are in essence in a learning environment, and knowledge is an incomparable multi-purpose tool,” He pauses “And it will make you feel better to stop dwelling in what’s happened and focus on what you can now do for your future,” Thomas nods and wipes his eyes, he can feel the tears building under his lids. “I’ll leave this to Patton, these emotions are not within my expertise,” He sinks out again, leaving Patton to keep patting a crying Thomas.

“This is just so hard Pat,” He sniffles, trying furiously to wipe away the tears; his chest feels so tight within his skin, his hands are shaking and his face feels hot all over. He can barely breathe as he finally gives in and lets a sob wrack his body. The moral side, heartbroken, hugs him, head resting on the other’s shoulder. “I want my life back,”

“I know kiddo, I know, but Logan’s right, you have to look to your future now, what you can do and learn, it’s okay to be sad now, because this is hard for you, but you can’t stay sad forever, it’ll make you feel worse,” Thomas sniffles and nods in agreement, wiping his eyes and looking up at the ceiling, blinking furiously.

“You’re right, you’re both right I should…I should do what I can, for now,” He gives a small, brave smile and nods as Morality stands up. “I’ll see you guys later just…behave, no arguing,” He laughs wearily “How’s Virgil doing?” Patton shuffles from one foot to another with a shrug and gentle, unsure smile.

“He’s doing better, Logan got him to calm down and he eventually fell asleep after four consecutive panic attacks but he seemed to have woken up in a slightly better state than yesterday, he even called Roman names,” Thomas lets out a sigh of relief.

“Good, good, I’ll see you later,” A deep breath whistles between his teeth and he breathes out again “I should probably get ready for my test,” Patton nods and sinks out of the room, restoring his place in Thomas’ mind. The brown-eyed man stares at the floor for a moment, trying to steady both his breathing and his mind as he stands up. Straightening out the blankets and the pillows, he looks around the room in thought, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with a hum. There’s a wardrobe, but he onto hadn’t brought anything with him. Thomas approaches the wooden closet anyway, opening the door to look inside; surprised he found there were clothes in there, t-shirts, jackets, and jeans that he’d generally wear anyway. These were generic clothes anyway and he wouldn’t have thought anything of it until he found his red shirt with a gold star plastered on the front. A smile painted itself his face as he pulled it off its hanger and held it in his hands.

The material felt comforting and familiar, his favorite shirt, he doesn’t know or care how it got here, but he immediately holds it too his chest and breathes in with a comforting smile for himself. “I got this,” He muttered.

After Thomas has changed, clothes feeling more comfortable and his body feeling less strained from the events of a long and heavy day. The outside of his room is a long tunnel and he’s not entirely sure where he’s supposed to be going, there doesn’t seem to be many other people here, some people wandering out of their rooms and chatting to each other in sparse groups. He looks up at the tunnel and starts to head down it, looking left and right before finally “Joan?” He shouts, the air seemed to suddenly fluctuate and push back against him as if confirming that his call had been received. He leans against the wall, hands sliding into his jeans pockets and studying the wall opposite him. The strands of his hazel colored hair fell into his eyes as he takes in his surroundings, trying to block out Virgil’s panic and Roman’s hyperactivity in the back of his head. He hisses under his breath “Calm down, both of you, I can’t deal with the two of you arguing right now,” He can hear a cacophony of finger pointing before he can hear Logan calling them both insufferable. Rolling his eyes, he repeats himself “Shut. Up, all of you,”

It’s at that point Joan appears a smile on their face. “Thomas! Hey!”  They reach out a hand to squeeze Thomas’ shoulder. “So, on the way up I’ll explain to you what this test will entail, now firstly it will seem a little dangerous but we are always going to be at hand to make sure you’re okay we will not let you get hurt, at all,” The shorter gives a comforting smile, hands buried in his pockets as they start to walk. “The test is split up into three parts, the first is simply acknowledging what skills you have, it’s more informative than an actual test but it’s necessary before we move on to the next part, which is the practical,” Thomas rubs the back of his neck, his eyes trained on the floor as he tries to pay attention to every piece of information he’s being given.  “Now each practical test is made to test not just the powers of one person but their triggers, their emotional capabilities, some people come to us having never used their powers before and are seeking out a way to unlock them, some come here to build upon their skills and some come to control them,” Joan pauses as they look over at their walking companion “It’s hard,” They say honestly “But it’s real-world scenarios we may one day have to face, it’s so difficult of a task that some people out of fear use their powers for the first time in their life,” Thomas swallows and finally looks at the other biting down on his lip.

“But I won’t get hurt?” He hears his own voice shake and silently curses his ridiculously sheltered life. He’d always known he’d been a Manifestor, ever since he was a child he’d be talking to people who weren’t really there. It wasn’t until later in life when his parents found Patton and him playing with bricks in his room they had quite realized what was happening. Despite everything, they refused to be harsh or cruel to their child about it and started to teach him a little about controlling what he could do. It wasn’t until he was 15 however, that he knew what else he could.

“We will be there to look after you, constantly, not in the arena itself, but we will be in complete control of the simulation and can pull the plug the moment you ask us too,” The two continue up the long corridors. “It’s okay to be scared, really it’s normal, I was terrified and started crying,” They laugh slightly “It’s a strange new environment and you’re being thrown into the thick of it and unfortunately that’s just how it has to be for our survival, however, if there’s anything you’re finding difficult, or taxing on your emotional help we do have a counsellor,” Thomas raises his eyebrows in surprise, he had somehow thought Witches could magically fix their own mental health, and then he remembered they were still mostly human. “Now the last part of the text is just theory, questions and answers, it’s generally just a history quiz really as we think our history is something important to remember and study and learn as it helps us figure out how to build a better future,” Thomas nods, relaxing, that doesn’t sound too bad.

The corridor leads downwards to a big circular room. Like an arena it was lit up with bright white spotlights and had stations around the outside; Sophie sat at a chair, another girl with shoulder-length brown hair and brightly colored clothes sat cross-legged to her left, and Talyn sat to her left. They advanced down the stairs to the center of the room.

Sophie smiles warmly and gestures to the arena “This is where your second test will take place; I assume Joan has explained on the way up here how this works?” Thomas nods nervously, his hands fidgeting with each other whilst nervous energy raised his pulse and heart rate to a speed he hadn’t known he could feel. His head was hurting as he swallowed. The brown haired girl taps his shoulder and then hands him a glass of water but the moment her fingers touch his shoulder his entire body relaxes, his breathing exhales. At the back of his head, he feels Virgil relaxing, hears him quiet.

“I’m Dodie,” She smiles wide, her dark eyes wide and her hand coming up to give a small wave. “I’m the councillor, really, not that this is particularly traumatizing, but it’s good to have me at hand just in case,” Thomas sips the water, trying to figure out what his emotions were currently doing, it almost felt like Virgil had gone to sleep completely, he breathed in and out slowly with a gentle smile. “My specialty is nature, but I focused mostly on human emotion because I’m not much of a fighter, so I wanted to help people, like a nurse, so I can calm people down when they’re stressed, in a more human term I’m like a doctor, I can also heal wounds and such,” She finally takes a hand off his shoulder and Virgil darts awake, Thomas could hear him muttering about rudeness and ‘who gave her the  _right_?’ He can also hear Roman laughing; somehow this comfortable familiarity calms him down more.

“So the first test, is simply some questions about what you can do, take a seat,” He gladly sits down, still trying to digest the information in his mind, he silently apologizes to Logan as his brain must be working overtime currently with all the new information, but not enough information, it must be frustrating to the other to not know how to work a strategy with only the brink of the information needed. Logan confirms this at the back of his head, Thomas frowns. “So Thomas, do you know what your specialty is?” Thomas doesn’t, he shakes his head. “Do you have multiple specialties?” Hesitantly, Thomas nods, unsure if this information was something he should give to almost strangers. Sophie’s eyes raise and she leans back in her chair “Right, well, that does change your training a little, but is otherwise not an issue,” The soft-eyed woman gives a reassuring smile and Thomas nods “Is there a particular focus you feel drawn too, one you’ve practiced the most?” Thomas shakes his head again, wondering why his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he swallowed drily, drinking some water to try and ease his nerves a little. He hadn’t really practiced his magic, he’d been content to live a regular human life until…that incident. “Okay, well you’re ready to start the second test, don’t hold back, this arena can’t be damaged in anyway shape or form and it’s been built to withstand the worst conditions known to mankind, do your best, remember you can’t fail this test and we will be here to stop it if it gets out of hand, are you ready?”

“Yeah, I can do this,” He closes his eyes for a brief second, inhaling and exhaling with shaky hands, following Sophie towards the door to the arena. The inside looks so bright, as he walks towards the center. The door closes with a resounding thud that echoes throughout the quiet room, slowly the paneling around the outside begins to change to black, the lights dim a little and Thomas can feel his heart pounding, the blood in his ears echo as his breathing becomes the only sound he hears. Use all of his powers. The floor changes, in the far side the ground seem to bubble a thick, black liquid that oozes into its surrounding, smoke rises from it like a demon emerging from hell.

What he faced was vaguely human, vaguely. It looked like it had once been human at least, but its long fingers curled like spiders legs, it’s skin translucent like it had been stretched thin over the skull of this creature. Sharp and pointed teeth bared at him, eyes that resembled charcoal ‘looked’ at him, if sight was something those eyes could do. It was clothed with a long, black robe, cloaked in darkness as it had advanced, a pendant lying around its neck that bounced as it walked. Thomas swallows and steps back, his feet hitting the ground. His hands burned with pressure, his heart rippled, and panic boiling in his entire body. He looked at his hands and then at the being, and let the fear encompass him. Virgil was barely breathing in his mind and the worry and need to protect one of his sides caused him to raise his hands.

His hands felt cold, so cold, ice frosted over them slowly and then leaped from the surface of his skin, forming cold waves towards the being, before impacted it firmly. It shrieked in rage as it became encompassed in the cold, but froze with its face in agony.  Its still moved, slowly, languidly, but it was enough for now. “Logan,” He shouts, holding a hand out, logic rises from the ground, his face tense yet ready to assist. “Roman,” He shouts, holding out his other hand, the other rises from the ground, his hand on his sword, feet shoulder width apart and eyes focused on the creature in front of him.

From the sideline, Joan gasped “A…Manifestor? He’s a Manifestor,” Sophie smiled and leaned back in the chair, pen paused against paper before nodding. “A Manifestor with multiple powers that’s…Incredible,”

“He has the potential to be a great Witch, a lot of potentials, he’s already thinking strategy by summoning two of his sides, buying himself time before planning an attack, he’s clever, but let’s see what he can do with his powers,” She scribbles on the piece of paper as she talks, making notes on the situation before looking at Dodie who is bouncing in her seat, enthralled with the display. Talyn had a small smile on their face, looking over at Joan with a grin, who returns the look.

Inside the arena, Thomas is looking somewhat frantic “What is that?” Logan’s eyes flash blue for a moment as he thinks, rapidly accessing the data in his mind.

“That is a type of Witch, a Witch known as a purist, they believe Humans should suffer, or die, and that witches that present as humans are cowards and deserve the same fate, they belong to a cult-like group named The Mortar, in essence, they’re animalistic types of Witches that rely solely on the instinct to kill,” He pauses, eyes returning to their normal state, before looking at the creature. “Fire is their best weakness Thomas; this comes from the long-standing history of-”

“Not right now pocket protector!” Roman interrupts. “Fire is their best weakness, but it’s about directing the attack, be creative, use all of your powers Thomas that’s what this test is for, you have to be less direct and more, give it the run around,” The ice cracks on the surface of its skin and it hisses into the air, eyes gleaming with rage as its teeth bares. Thomas nods as he listens, hands ready. He can feel Roman’s bravery in his soul, burning, drowning out Virgil’s panic. He faces his palms at the creature and allows a rush of air to fill his body, pushing his opponent backwards as it hisses and grabs at the air, ice cracking all over its body. It surges forward, hands on fire as it begins to advance. Thomas dives out of the way as flames seared towards him, the air pushed from his body again, sending the fire up against the other, who wailed in response.

Roman and Logan stand behind him, observing for now. Logan is calculating, taking in the other’s movements and his patterns. The creature steps backward, the flames starting up again, this time Thomas is prepared, a wall of thick, dense water rose up from the ground and encased him, extinguishing the fireball before it had the chance to reach him. “Attack, now, Thomas,” Logan calls out, his voice echoing into Thomas’ mind. The water fell and fire started in his palms, a wall of fire encased the creature, causing it to scream in agony, but Thomas was relentless. You can’t fight fire with fire, it would only get bigger.

Finally, the creature speaks, no, it cries out for help, it’s voice loud and echoing like a robotic impersonation of humanity. And yet, it still caused Thomas’ heart to ache, his need to care became an instinct he needed to fight. “Patton,” He calls out, the other appears, he looks for a moment the fire starting to fizzle from his hands “I need you to switch off for now kiddo,” Patton swallows and nods, before disappearing. His morality switched off, he suddenly understood how it might feel to be Logan. Anger surged through him and the fire poured out more powerful than ever, the worry and care he might have had disappeared in Roman’s passion and Logan’s hard, logical thinking.

The creature screamed, but was only met with Thomas’ relentless attack; it’s cried for help caused even the spectators to shiver, despite having encountered these creatures in real life. They had never had the privilege of just switching their morality off.  

The creature laid there, skin charred and peeling, the scent of burnt skin filled Thomas’ nose. “Thomas I think it would be a good idea to bring Patton back now,” Logan said calmly “It’s dangerous to keep him suppressed for too long,” Thomas nods and summons the other back to his conscious mind. Immediately he feels sick, his stomach churns as he looks at what he has done, stepping back towards the door slowly, it opens and Sophie is stood there. Her face is solemn, but not angry.

“You did well Thomas,” The creature disappears. “Very well in fact it’s been a while since we’ve had a Manifestor here, a new one at least,” He quickly moves out of the room, shivering. Dodie is there, placing her hands on his shoulders to calm him as he shakes. He killed it. He had killed something. His stomach lurches and he gags on the air. “I think we should complete the last part of the test later, you need rest,”

Virgil is not happy at all; in fact, he appears without summoning, his eyes stoic and dark. “Nice one,” He growls sarcastically “What were you thinking?” He hisses “You know it’s dangerous to do what you just did, even Logan panicked for a second there you fucking imbecile,”

“Not now Virgil, please,” He mutters, the anxious side’s face softens and he nods, disappearing from existence to the corner of Thomas’ mind that right now he did not want to dwell in. “I’m going to go back to my room if that’s okay?” He doesn’t look at any of them, but Joan is by his side ready to escort him. “I’ll see you later,” Sophie nods with sympathetic eyes as the two slouch off towards Thomas’ room.

His heart doesn’t stop racing even as he walks, Joan talks, but can’t hear anything they say. All he can see and think is the complete lack of emotion he felt when killing.


	4. The Test Completes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas completes his test and meets his trainer

Thomas sits with his hands on bouncing knees, energy flying around his central nervous system; the heavy wooden door is locked and he is completely silent as the sides argue between the four of them in front of him. Roman and Virgil are nose to nose, the dark voice of Anxiety booming through the walls as Logan stands to the side of them gesturing wildly as he talks. Morality sits still, head going backwards and forwards as he sits cross-legged trying to compute half of what is being said. The host of the four can tolerate only so much more before he finally snaps “Okay, enough, you’ve been at this for half an hour and it’s clearly not productive,” He rarely uses an intentionally fierce tone with any of them and it jerks them into finally concentrating on Thomas, who is now stood with his fists clenched and teeth gritted. 

Patton stands up slightly, wobbling as he does so, “Thomas is right guys, we can’t keep shouting at each other! It’s just stressing our little guy out,” Thomas bites his tongue to stop himself from snapping at the condescension that he knows the other doesn’t mean.

Virgil’s eyes are glowing purple as he turns his advancements to the only nonfigurative man in the room “What you did Thomas, was reckless and idiotic,” He hisses, his face crumpled in rage and fear, as he steps forward “I can’t believe you would do that! For what reason, to show off? You know the repercussions of repressing one of us, and if you do it too much or for too long…” Virgil trails off, his hands gesturing to a comedic replication of slicing his own throat “Bye Bye Patton,” His hand flies out, gesturing to the side in question who visibly flinches away from the hand inches from his face. “We don’t have time for recklessness Thomas, the key to your survival is all of us,”

The creative side perks up as he calls out “It certainly doesn’t help when all you do is shout at him, Dr Gloom and Doom, Thomas was told not to restrain himself to complete the task, and he did so,” Virgil whips around, ready to completely give in to the overwhelming Anxiety that was currently coursing through his veins, however, Logan immediately steps between the two of them, holding his hands up to each of them. 

“Okay enough, we don’t have time for this, both of you need to stop your blabbering nonsense and focus,” His face is pulled into a scowl, eyebrows furrowed as he brings a hand to his chin, deep in thought. “Virgil is right in saying that what Thomas did was, indeed, reckless, however he was responding to the task given to him which will be key to the sort of training he receives, those are the facts,” He pauses, looking between the others “But nobody is paying attention to what the real questions are here,” He scratches the back of his head, pacing up and down as he contemplates the words he needs to say “Should you have shown them that you can do that and will they expect you to do it again?”  
The room falls into silence before Roman finally quips up, his face also becoming thoughtful as he ran a hand through his hair “Surely not, surely they’re aware of what that can do to the side, it damages us to do so, could cause us to disappear or worse…corrupt,” Patton looks up, his brown eyes bright with emotion, from sadness to worry, a real fear for them all was to become corrupt. Some of them had opposites, dark sides, which are contained away from the rest of them; they were purposefully repressed to some extent because although they served a purpose they were already corrupt. 

The thought of a corrupt Morality made them all shiver. 

Virgil looks down at his hands. “Just don’t do it again, please,” He mutters, his eyes wandering from Thomas to Patton “I don’t…I don’t want to see any of you, any of us, get hurt,” He corrects himself, remembering that this was an ‘us’ situation.

It had only been a recent development that Virgil had become accepted with the other three, sometimes he forgets that he is one of them; from the moment he had been formed both Logan and Roman had struggled to accept him as one of them. The moral side, true to his purpose had fought long and hard for Anxiety to be accepted and although he often made silly remarks that no one could take seriously, he silently demanded a certain amount of respect being the first of them all and the heart of Thomas. 

Patton, morality, had been the first side to ever show in Thomas, from as early as six months old Patton would take in what the child was taught about right and wrong and use it to grow the heart of the host for the rest of his life. Not long after Patton, at around a year old was when another side had come about, Roman, creativity. The moral side would assume a fatherly role and protect the side as he did the child, helping them explore who they were until a confirmation had come as to what they were and eventually a name would be chosen. This continued until Thomas was 5 years old and Logan, logic, would be formed. Now comfortable in a more fatherly and protective role, Patton happily took on the new side that was inexplicably cold and condescending, as far as he was concerned this was his slightly emotionally deficient child. Throughout helping Logan’s discovery and eventually being given a name, he discovered the other had no capability to ever return the love he had for him, it broke his heart, but that didn’t make him love the logical side any less. 

Virgil had come about when Thomas was ten; at this point, many dark sides had risen and been suppressed, some had come and faded or suppressed themselves because they weren’t central to Thomas’ life. Initially, they had discussed whether having him around would be a nuisance, whether and how he would affect Thomas and whether they should discuss suppressing him too.

“He isn’t like the others guys, I’m telling you, give him a chance, he doesn’t want to make Thomas into a bad person!” he can see and hear Patton saying those words, his hands on his hips and cheeks flushed as the other two argued in their own way “Listen to me, for once!” It had been the only time he’d seen Patton indignant, almost angry “He wants to protect Thomas, like all of us, sure he’s a little grumpy, but if I had his job I would be too,” Logan had agreed and Roman had kicked up a fuss but they had let him stay. No one except Patton had paid any attention to him and would snap or scowl at him or in Logan’s case, straight up dismiss him. Patton had always stood by his side and listened to him until eventually, they let him into their group. 

Virgil looks down at his hands and swallows. The other three are quiet and looking at him; the moral side’s hands are resting on his shoulders as he gives him a small smile which Virgil gently returns, patting Patton’s hand with a quiet display of mutual friendship. Thomas nods in response. 

“Okay, I promise not to suppress any of you, ever again,” A collective sigh of relief passes over them before it is logic that brings them back to the focus. 

“Now that that issue is cleared up, let’s return to the matter at hand, Thomas no matter what these people say to you, you cannot afford to corrupt or lose any of us, that much is clear, there are other Manifestors here they will surely know what it can do, and if they don’t then it’s your job to educate them, although if that is the case then their logical sides are clearly in need of an upgrade,” Roman snorts in response, hiding a smile underneath his fringe as he looks down at his feet, the anxious side also gives a small smirk at Logan’s attempt at humour thinly veiled by condescension “Now, it’s almost 3 PM and if I’m not mistaken Joan is due to meet you at quarter past so you should get ready,”  
\--  
The third test is all theory, involving a lot of writing and Logan’s input as he stared at so many words that he wasn’t sure even made sense to him, allowing his logic to take in the words and rearrange them in a way he could better understand. The lip of his pen had been chewed beyond recognition by the end and he was becoming tired of staring at these papers. 

Finally, the time had run out and so had the amount of paper he had, and he handed the paper to Joan, who gave a reassuring smile in return. They give Thomas a pat on the back before squeezing his shoulder “You’re doing well Thomas, really, now we’ve chosen a tutor for some of your studies, but given the uniqueness of what you are you’re likely to need more tuition than a standard student,” They lean against the wall and begin to explain in more depth, talking with one hand following the themes of their sentence in various gestures. “First is Jack, Jack is a Manifestor and his specialty is Fire, and Jack’s sides are…interesting, unique, they’ve all grown strong enough to encompass and overlap with each other sides,” Joan looks at Thomas, silently asking if he was following, seeing he seemed engaged in their words, they continue. “He will teach you about Fire and he will teach you about your Sides and your job as the Host, how to control them better,” Thomas nods “If you’re okay to do so now, I am happy to take you to him,”  
Anything that would get him away from the same four walls whilst spiraling in a pit of Anxiety was good enough for Thomas. 

\--  
The walk from the exam room back to the dorms was not all that long and yet every second seemed to stretch out over minutes as he heard Virgil’s soft worried voice, drained by the day, swimming through his mind. They both wished he could just sit it out, the side didn’t enjoy generating Anxiety, and Thomas never enjoyed receiving it. The heavy door opened at the sound of a knock, and the door swung back to reveal another body. 

The man stood before them had fair skin that looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in a few years; his ebony brown hair matched the beard that decorated his chin, and the strands of his fringe seemed to swoop into piercing azure eyes, lit up with a wide and friendly smile. The young man holds out a hand and shakes it firmly “Hi! You must be Thomas, lovely to meet you dude, I’m Jack,” He was dressed in a black hoodie over a light grey shirt which peeked from underneath at the top, over a black pair of skinny jeans. The thick Irish accent almost throws the American off guard completely, his automatic body response causing him to step backward “You’re the first trainee I’ve ever had, I’ll tell you now, so if you’re nervous just know, I’m just as or possibly more so nervous,” The other man takes the hand, noticing how it was much warmer than usual, as if it had just been heated over a warm fire. 

“I’m going to leave you two to get to know each other,” Joan interjects, “Meet each other’s sides and all that so you can start learning hopefully as soon as possible, are you two okay to take it from here?” They offer a warm smile and give Thomas a comforting squeeze on his shoulder before leaving the two brunette boys to their conversation, feeling it may be less awkward without them being there watching the two try to talk. 

“So…Hi,” Thomas smiles and gives an awkward wave, stepping into the other man’s room, hands in his pockets. His heart is beating fast and he really wants it to stop doing that so he can breathe just a little better. The room is painted in shades of green, with pin boards hanging off the walls containing pictures, both hand-drawn and photographic, notes, writings, memories; suddenly the other feels he’s intruding and swallows nervously. “Virgil,” He calls out through gritted teeth. “This…is my Anxiety,” He explains, combing a hand through his hair “He likes to work overtime,” Virgil appears, buried underneath the hood of his purple jacket as he takes in the scenario through his thick fringe. He addresses the side firmly “Please calm down, he’s a friend, you don’t have to make me panic about literally everyone,”

Jack waves “Hi, Virgil, I love your jacket, and your hair, in fact, that’s entirely a look dude, you’re really rocking it,” The anxious side does not appear to know how to react as his eyebrows furrow and he physically recoils, before his face softens. He doesn’t say anything, anxious about his first encounter with anyone other than Thomas and the sides, simply nodding and slinking backward to sit on the bed. 

“I’ll summon mine, it might make you and your anxiety feel more at ease if I go first,” Jack clears his throat and close his eyes, bringing a hand up to his temple. “JJ,” He calls out first, as his eyes open they seem to glow ever so slightly; Thomas wondered if his own eyes do this when he summons a side. Much like Virgil he popped into existence, and the two of the others in the room almost did a double take at the new addition to the room. 

The man was almost a caricature of Jack, sharing the same face at least, but dressed in old suit pants, with a long sleeved white shirt tucked into them and a black waistcoat that had a gold pocket watch in the breast pocket. He had black hair, dark grey eyes, and pale skin, with a black mustache that curled at the ends. He waves and gives a gentle, shy smile before looking down at the floor nervously. This man looked almost entirely monochrome, skin deathly pale in the light of the room. Virgil stands up curiously, head tilted as he looks at the other who silently waves, moving his hands. “JJ can’t speak, he can speak to me in my head, but otherwise communicates via sign language, he says hello and that he’s glad to meet you both, he is my Anxiety,” 

Virgil inhales slightly, approaching the other tentatively; the hosts watch the two interact like two small animals finding out if the other they’re interrelating with is a threat. “Hello,” He finally says, “I’m…not going to be able to understand anything you…uh…say, but I’ve never met another Anxiety before,” JJ smiles and places a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, nodding. 

Jack smiles before bringing a hand to his temple again and taking a deep breath “Chase!”

The second man to appear as he rose from the ground, wore a backward white and green cap, hands buried in a black coat over a grey shirt and black skinny jeans, compared to JJ, this man was almost a carbon copy of Jack. “Hey there,” His voice layered in an American accent which seemed exaggerated but included a personal flair that the other had not even known that the sides could have “I’m Jack’s logical side,” Unlike Logan, Chase seemed comfortable in emotion and personality beyond facts as the condescension he is used too from Logan’s existence simply isn’t there, making the occupants of the room relax ever so slightly. 

Thomas smiles, “Hey Chase, nice to meet you,” He holds out a hand to the left of his body before taking a deep breath, indicating an upwards motion “Logan!” Logan appears, shirt tucked into his pants as he straightens his tie “Play nicely,” Thomas warns as the other crosses his arms over his chest, silently analyzing the man opposite him. “This is my logical side, so why don’t you two get to know each other a little?”

“That would be…satisfactory,” Logan says, ever so slightly dismissively, looking no more interested in the idea than he would be actually having fun; nevertheless, he holds out a hand for the other to take and shake which is accepted with a wide smile as the two sat down at the two chairs by Jack’s desk. 

“Jackie,” The Irishman calls secondly, looking off to the left, where a man with an eccentric fashion sense rises up. “This is my moral side,” The newcomer wore an orange shirt and jeans with a cape wrapped loosely around his shoulders, and smiles like the sun is bright; bouncing energetically on the balls of his feet in a way that mimicked Jack’s own excitement, Thomas thinks that perhaps his morality is a big part of who this man in front of him is, as his mannerisms were very similar. Jackie does an extravagant twirl and bows.

“Patton,” Thomas says in response, conjuring the eldest side that is immediately at the man clad in superhero getup’s side. “He’s…energetic, be warned,” The cardigan-clad man holds out his arms for a hug, which the other moral side gladly accepts, followed by a high five. They need no prompting as they dissolve into a conversation, flopping down on the bed to talk about…cats apparently. The two hosts laugh as the two converse like old friends meeting after a few years away from each other; it seemed two hearts of gold made great conversation.

“I have two more sides now, although I understand you have only one more, so I will summon my last two now, Marvin, my Creativity and Henrik, my Curiosity,” As he calls out their names the two appear, one almost in sync with the other, if real life had lag this was what would happen, Thomas muses. 

“It is nice to meet you,” Henrik is the first to speak of the two, clad in a long white coat over blue hospital scrubs, a stethoscope hanging around his neck, which Logan immediately takes interest with, eyeing up the newcomer in desperate attempt to get his attention. It registers to the others that Henrik has a thick accent, of which Thomas cannot place before his mind turns to the other. 

The last wore a cat mask, decorated with card designs; diamond, heart, spade, and club, with cat whiskers on the cheeks. He had a blue cape around his shoulders but otherwise wore a blue shirt over black skinny jeans and stood with a hand on a cocked hip. He smiled with a wide grin, eyes bright blue underneath the mask. “I like magic,” He snaps his fingers and a flower blossoms in his palm, from the corner of the room, Patton gasps and shifts off the bed to run over and see. “You can have it if you like,” Marvin chuckles, placing the beautiful blue rose into the excited side’s hands, giving a small smile. Both Patton and Marvin make eye contact for a brief second and smile.   
They appeared to be an eclectic bunch, this much was for sure. 

“Roman, my creativity,” Thomas announces, last but not least. “Oh, that mask!” Roman too, seems to become interested in Marvin’s mask from the moment he has appeared; he all but skips over to Marvin, his hand coming up to tap on the porcelain mask, gasping “That’s just inspired!” He looks over at JJ “And your aesthetic is just fabulous,” The other blushes in response, cheeks flushing red as the only sort of color this otherwise monochrome man had. “And you are… wow, that’s an outfit,” Roman says as he turns to Jackie, whose eyes brighten behind a blue superhero outfit. Thomas bites back a chuckle. 

As the sides start to join up and get to know each other in a huddled group by the bed, Jack takes Thomas to the side “So, now there’s one other, who I haven’t summoned, that I won’t summon and will never do so, see I’m sure you’re aware of the concept of dark sides, sides we purposefully repress but, I have one that is a lot stronger than I could repress, we’re not sure what he is, or who he is, but he isn’t nice, so we keep him at bay,”

Thomas nods, taking this in, it can take a while for some of the dark sides to repress, his own trouble being Deceit who generally tries to pull at the others like puppet strings. “It’s understandable; we all have one that just takes a while,”

“So, with that out of the way, shall we start learning?”


	5. Complications

Thomas likes Jack, this much becomes clear as they begin to train together; he thinks the cerulean eyed man builds upon his issues like fire engulfs the earth and it makes him an admirable person. Full of energy, wonder and curiosity, the Jack makes fire an extension of his soul and body, making it dance along his fingertips or engulfs entire objects. Thomas watches as the Irish born man makes the flames dance to his own tune like a puppet of his own. “Fire knows you, it’s built on anger and passion and it can tell when you need it, controlling it is difficult as I’m sure you know, draining, you have to let it get to know you,”

The American man doesn’t know how to make his fire know him, or in fact to produce it in a quantity or flow that he needs. He can summon fire and direct it. Concentrating on the here and now, he tries to build the passion and anger he felt previously, electing to summon Roman to the forefront of his mind with a gentle nudge. The Creative side immediately began to take forth the imagination, creating memories, ideas; flairs that made his heart beat with want. For once it isn’t Anxiety that makes his hands shake but excitement as a small flame appears in the palm of his hands.

He is however not very good at keeping the flame small as it shoots directly from the palm of his hands in a fiery ribbon before extinguishing against the cold walls of the training cell. Roman apologises between laughs but Thomas can’t find it in himself to be upset at the situation as he hears his trainer dissolving into laughter. “Almost Thomas, you just have to focus on reining it in,” He shouts through the glass, a grin on his face.

Jack’s laughter was one of the most comforting things Thomas has ever heard, as well as being impossibly infectious; there was not an ounce of self-resentment or embarrassment in the laughter of his tutor. He genuinely enjoyed what he was doing, he enjoyed training Thomas and he enjoyed being a Witch. The brown eyed man hopes one day he could be in the same position.

“Thomas! Jack!” Joan waves at them as the room door opens, allowing the brown haired Manifestor to step outside of it to greet his friend. “Lovely to see you both, however, there’s a situation and we need our Manifestors, consider this your first very difficult practical assignment Thomas,” They smile wide at Thomas’ terrified look, patting him on the back before they lead the two boys away.

On the way up the corridor, Joan began to explain the situation so far “As you’re both aware there are certain Witches that embrace a more…death orientated lifestyle, and they want complete genocide of us, and of humans because they want control of earth and so on so forth,” Already, the hairs on the back of Thomas’ neck are standing up, looking over at his tutor to see a similar sombre expression on his face. “They’re planning an attack, here on this base, and we’re essentially rounding up every Manifestor we have to see if their logical sides can plan a strategy to protect us, or fight them,”

If Thomas could give Joan a look of utter disbelief, he would but his face is twisted into some form of permanent shock and terror. “You want me, barely trained, to help with something like this?” He feels Logan bristle at the back of his mind as if to say ‘No, Thomas, they want me,’ He scowls to silence him before he speaks, and the logical side takes the hint. “I’m not sure if I can help, or…”

“Thomas, it’s fine, you just have to summon Logan,” He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, not realising he had even stopped in his panic. He follows the hand to look at the reassuring face of his tutor and instantly finds himself relaxing. If Jack and Joan think he can do it, then he will try his best.

The room he had first appeared to looked different now he’d been here a few days, the vast open cavern that cradled it’s occupants like a warm basket looked less vicious and intimidating. Sophie sat at a chair beside a computer whilst a huddle of ten or so people was talking loudly at and over each other. It was clear that the atmosphere was very tense. Joan placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder and gave a reassuring smile, whilst Jack made his way towards the huddle, gesturing for Thomas to follow.

Initially the Irish man tried to talk, to intervene, but the loud arguments continued before he sighed, shook his head and then cleared his throat “TOP OF THE MORNING T’YA LADDIES,” He shouted, no, screamed, into the huddle of people who immediately jumped back and narrowed their eyes at the two. Behind them both, Joan was stifling their laughter terribly whilst Sophie’s expression had become an amused smirk.

Thomas bit down on his lip to stop himself from laughing at the various irritated to amused expressions on the huddle before them, as they opened up a little to let the two in. He didn’t recognise any of these people however and this was the point his Anxiety started to kick in again. “This is Thomas, Thomas is a Manifestor too, and he’s going to help us with this,” For once, his voice seemed uncharacteristically stern, he wasn’t asking these people to accept Thomas, he was telling them too.

“Now that you’re all here, let’s get started,” Sophie stands up and claps her hands, causing everyone to turn to her as she moved forward “Everyone will firstly summon their logical sides, move away from everyone else so there’s room, there we go, now get in a large circle, it’s a big room guys come on,” Everyone did as instructed, Thomas stood beside Jack and a tall man with fair skin and ebony hair. The man gave Thomas a short smile, before concentrating on the centre of the circle. “Now summon them,” Various names were called one after the other, Jack calls out Chase, with his arm outstretched and Thomas calls for Logan in a similar fashion.

Everyone’s Logical sides varied in style. Chase was obviously stood in his general attire, backwards cap with t-shirt and skinny jeans, but had appeared to dress for the occasion with a knee-length black coat. He smiles warmly at Thomas, sensing he was nervous, and mutters “It’s okay” as he stands beside Jack “These sessions are not particularly strenuous on the host, although you may feel tired afterwards; it’s us that do the predominant amount of the work,”

Logan rises up and straightens his tie, arms folded and eyes focused. “Salutations Chase,” Chase squeezes Logan’s shoulder with a grin, still unused to the way Logan talks like he just swallowed the Oxford dictionary. The focus is brought back to Sophie.

“Now for those unaware, we’ve received word that the Mortar are threatening to attack our base here, we’re not sure when, it could be in the next few hours or next few months, we also don’t know how long they’ve been planning it for and chances are if they’re threatening to attack us, they’re threatening to attack the city too, we need ideas, plans,”

Logan bites down on his lip as Sophie finishes speaking before politely raising his hand, Thomas’ face flushes as all eyes turn to them “What existing defence do you…we have,” His eyes are trained on Sophie, his mind ready to absorb any and all information that could be helpful to him. Like a detective, he needed all the existing facts first.

“We have wards that protect our settlement, but they’re generally to keep humans out, not witches, we also have very powerful people on the inside, people who have been training with us for years, however there’s not many of us, tops maybe 100?” Logan digests this information, absorbing it, he takes a few seconds to mull it over in his mind before he looks at Chase, wh has a similar thoughtful expression.

“Is there a way to upgrade the barrier, make it stop anyone exiting or entering the building?” Chase speaks as Thomas’ logical side also nods in agreement, hand poised at his chin in thought. “We could upgrade the barrier and initiate a lockdown nobody enters or exits the building, but if they do get in then…”

“We’d need more people,” The man next to Thomas’ logical side perks up, pushing his ebony hair from striking blue eyes. “We could go and extract or try to talk to the people we’ve been keeping tabs on around the city, train them, there’s strength in numbers, whilst Joan works on the barrier, and then once we’ve got the amount we may need, we can initiate a lock down, continue training and fight them if they attack our base,”

“We’d also need a fighting strategy,” Logan trails off the end of the other’s sentence “Make note of everyone’s strengths and weaknesses and organise completely, from interaction with a simulation of the creatures that we’re to be fighting with, they’re not smart, they won’t have order, they react on impulse to kill and they have scattered and weak tactics because of this, we may be able to outsmart them with an organised fighting structure,” There’s a hum of agreement around the room and Thomas gives his side an encouraging and proud smile, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“That’s some excellent points,” Sophie agreed, her hand combs through her hair and her face fixed into a thoughtful frown “We know the strengths of people in this organisation, we know their specialities, we could organise people into fighting squads, have them train together in the combat rooms so they can learn further from a range of people,”

Some of the other logical sides build on the suggestion, giving further ideas such as a simulated combat with more than one of the Dark Witches, given none of them have ever faced more than one to one, and help them train in formation so that they can fight in an organised group over just themselves and their own power. By the end and the dismissal, people were jumping on the balls of their feet, itching to continue. Jack gives Thomas a warm smile and holds his hand out for a high five, with which he is happily met with.

“Let’s get this show on the road then, shall we?”

\--

Jack and Thomas continued their personal training for a couple of hours, as Thomas tried to minimize the energy that went into his ability to produce fire. However, he’s met with Roman’s indigence as the creative side insisted he wasn’t sure how to stop being passionate, only how to produce it.

So Thomas moved to a new tactic, instead of bringing Roman forward to harness his passion and energy, he focused on doing it himself, bringing forward his own innate emotions without them being amplified, it took several tries but eventually, he began to control the fire in his hand. He hears Jack cheer and sees him jumping up and down. “Fuck yeah!” he hears through the glass and laughs as the fire fizzles out. His trainer gives Thomas a high five as he steps down. “With more practice you’re definitely going to have that down, coming for dinner?” The American pulls his bag up his shoulders as they head off towards the canteen.

At dinner, the noise and chatter of generally cheerful Witches are made somber and Sophie stands up and clears her throat, announcing the news that they would be under attack, she told them the plan and changes to the lessons, which is met with various degrees of shock and anguish, gasps and titters. Thomas looks around at the expressions and swallows. Jack isn’t paying much attention and the other thinks he may be purposefully ignoring the looks of fear around him.

Thomas can’t say he blames him.


	6. Chapter 6: Anxiety

In Thomas’ mind, things were really very hectic. Virgil had not moved from the same spot in an hour, shaking uncontrollably. Logan stares at him, and then at Patton “How do you fix this?” He finally breaks the silence that is only varied by Virgil sobs. It is very much out of his depth, unsure how to console the shaking man; emotions were not and would never be his forte. Patton, however, skidded on to his knees to pat the anxious side on the back.

“Hey Virge, buddy, it’s going to be okay, they have a plan, and Logan helped! Logan’s smart, so it’ll be a good plan,” Logan practically preens at the compliment, adjusting his glasses and his ego at the same time. Virgil leans into the other as Patton brings him into a hug. With a sigh, the intellectual side joins them on the floor with a reassuring (grimace) smile.

“Breath Virgil, count with me, four seconds in,” Shakily, Virgil does as he is told “Hold for 8 seconds, you’re doing well, don’t…worry, exhale for 7 seconds,” He repeats this until the other can stabilise his breathing. “Okay now, three things you can see Virgil?”

Blinking through tears the side pushes his purple hair from his eyes, rubbing them “Uh…Carpet, Logan, Patton,” He leans up a little and the moral side lets his arms loosen as the tears are blinked away, giving a calm and warm smile.

“Okay three things you can hear,” Logan places a reassuring and awkward hand on Virgil’s back, patting ever so slightly to encourage the other that he was safe, that they were all safe.

“Roman’s music,” His voice is starting to cease the shaking and his breathing begins to even out in his distraction. “Patton’s breathing, Logan’s voice,” He closes his eyes and takes a deep and shaky breath, his shoulders rising and falling in the deepness of his inhalations and exhalations, legs crossed in a pose of meditation.

“Lastly, three things you can feel,” He feels Virgil’s hand on his arm, seeking comfort and he gently allows him too, although impartial to physical touch if it restores balance then the other side is more than welcome too it.

“Logan, Patton, uh…the floor,” He seems to have calmed greatly, although looking drained as his body slumps slightly. “Can I…water?” Although none of the sides physically needed food and water, it was comforting at least as Logan hands Virgil a glass of water from seemingly nowhere “Thanks guys,”

Patton helps Virgil to a proper seat and puts on some films to keep the other occupied as Logan found a blanket for him to keep him grounded. “I’m scared Pat,” The anxious side confesses “This is all…terrifying,”

“I know kiddo, but we’ll all be okay, and so will Thomas,”

–

Outside of the inner workings of Thomas’ mind, Thomas had almost completely stopped breathing as Jack tried to keep him stable through the heaving panic attack vibrating through his body. “It’s okay dude, it’s going to be okay,” His thick Irish accent soothed Thomas into a state where he could actually coherently think. As Virgil calmed, his body and mind did too, the feeling of vibration and dizziness that he had previously experienced starting to calm itself down.

Half an hour later with a glass of water in his hands, Thomas feels more okay to actually deal with what has happened. “It’s a new situation, Virgil is bound to be panicking,” The Irishman says gently, rubbing his student’s back gently “When I first got here I was in a similar state, JJ could not sit still, he never says anything but you could tell when he wasn’t okay, especially as it launched me head first into a few panic attacks but with time and adjustment, all of your sides will get used to it,”

Thomas nods and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration “I don’t know how much help I’m going to be with this whole situation if he doesn’t adjust faster though, it’s kind of ironic how I’ve been given control over all four elements and still have a panic attack at the slightest inconvenience,” He gives a dry chuckle. “Honestly, it’s like one of those bad superpower generators,” Jack can only give a reassuring smile, pushing his dark brown hair from his eyes.

“Everything always comes with a price Thomas, I’m afraid, but it’s something you can work through, maybe talk to Dodie about?” The American man nods, sitting up a little straighter with a hum of agreement.

“Yeah, I think I will,”

–

Dodie’s office kind of looks like happiness threw up on it’s walls. The room varied in pastel colours, with flowers hanging everywhere, rows of plants filled the walls, the desk, the floor, just stepping inside made Thomas feel like his entire body had entered Nirvana. “Hey Dodie, I came to talk?” The woman in question is more than happy to greet him, seating him on a pastel green couch and bringing out a notebook. “So I’m having issues controlling my Anxiety,” The hazel eyed man rubs the back of his neck “I want to help with everything that’s going on but Virgil won’t stop panicking, which yeah is understandable in this situation but I really just need some tips on calming him down,”

The woman hums gently, face pulled into a thoughtful expression before adjusting her glasses in a  way that reminisces of Logan. “Could I speak to Virgil, Thomas?”

Thomas summons the anxious side, who looks drained with thick layers of eyeshadow the colour of charcoal underneath his eyes. Virgil looks paler than ever, almost translucent as he stares at the two from under a curtain of messy purple hair, jaw set firmly and hands buried into the pockets of his oversized purple hoodie. Thomas almost feels bad for the other, who certainly looks to have been working overtime.

“Hey! Virgil, come and sit down,” Dodie beams and shuffles along the couch, patting the space next to her enthusiastically. The side looks confused, eyebrows drawn together as he catches the side of his cheek between his teeth, before quietly ad quickly shuffling over to sit next to Dodie. “I’m going to touch your shoulder, is that okay Virgil?” He nods, hand fidgeting with each other in anticipation.

The moment Dodie’s hand touched his shoulder he seemed to relax, his back unstiffened, his muscles unwound, his throat seemed less tight and the air in his lungs appeared to pass more freely. The anxious side relaxed entirely, a small smile on his face as he leaned into the touch. Dodie’s face was a mixture of happiness and concentration, happy to make the other feel a little safer.

When the touch was removed, Virgil looked infinitely calmer even as his general lack of calm began to sink into his bones. Dodie smiles warmly and he returns the smile with e low “Thank you,” In his deep, gravelly voice. Unlike Thomas, Virgil spoke slowly, like every word needed to be heard, his voice was much lower than Thomas’ own and it generally had a quite grated tone to it, as if he was constantly talking with a sore throat.

Thomas smiled at his first view of Virgil when he’s not so twisted up in his frustrations or fear. He looked infinitely more human, with his eyes blinking slowly and a gentle smile tugging at his lips, neither overly anxious nor completely calm; just breathing deeply and allowing the relaxation of the room to destress him. “Well, Thomas, you do also possesses the power of Earth, perhaps you would like me to teach you how you can calm yourself down using your powers, and in turn, calm Virgil,” The anxious side bristles slightly, looking from Thomas to Dodie, he couldn’t tell if he was scared or excited by the notion.

“Am I that bad?” He muttered finally, eyes settling on the carpet and his hands fidgeting “I don’t mean to be; I just want to protect you,” Thomas gives a sympathetic smile, he doesn’t want Virgil to feel like he’s a burden ever, and given his nature it’s likely to be something he experiences a whole lot.

“It’s not that you’re bad Virgil, you’re a very helpful element, but there’s times where I need my fight reflex over my flight reflex, I can’t have a panic attack whilst fighting, which means I need a little bit more control in some situations,” The side nods in understanding, taking a deep breath.

“Okay, how do we do this then?”

–

It’s hard. Thomas feels endlessly drained as he tries to figure out the parts of his mind that are causing him grief. He might’ve been there for two hours or four because at this point the seconds seem to be stressing out over eternity. “It’s a hard task to do, your biology is attempting to fight against it as you administer because it thinks you are trying to hurt it,” She pauses “Why don’t you try it on someone else first, maybe then you will be concentrating solely on the relaxation element,” She steps forward and smiles up at him. Thomas takes several calming breaths, trying to imagine serenity as he focuses on his hands and his hands alone, pressing them gently to Dodie’s shoulders. He watches her face, for a moment nothing changes and then as he began to envisage calmness flowing through her body she began to relax. A small smile brushes across her lips before Thomas begins to bounce excitedly.

“I did it!” He beams, his companion high-fives him. “I think that might be enough for today however, I’m starting to feel rather drowsy,” His smile turns softer, the lack of energy starting to sink in. Virgil, sat cross-legged at the side, sucking on a lollipop that Dodie had kindly offered him, looks up from the book in his lap about coping with Anxiety. “Would you like to go back to the Mindscape Virge, or walk with me?”

The lollipop almost falls out of his mouth “I’ll walk with you,” He closes the book and goes to hand it back to Dodie, who shakes her head and pushes it back towards him with the generally kind smile she offers to anyone and everyone. Personally, he thought it must be exhausting to always smile at people.

“Keep it, bring it back when you’ve finished reading it, it’s all fine,” Virgil mutters a thank you, cheeks slightly red from the overwhelming amount of kindness he’d been receiving today. The two walk out of the door, Virgil with his shoulders hunched and book clutched to his chest, Thomas whilst yawning extravagantly.

“See you later Dodie,”

–

A later didn’t really come. Well it did, amongst the chaos that occurred the next day. At 1AM, Thomas awoke to loud bangs, his heart rate began to pick up as he quickly pulled on a loose pair of jogging bottoms and hoodie, heading towards his door. He could hear shouting, screaming, and orders. He opens his door to find Jack with his fist inches away from knocking it, his eyes frantic and wide. “Run,” He orders, grabbing Thomas’ arm as they sprinted towards the end of the corridor. “They’re here,” He shouts over his shoulder.

He’d never quite seen Jack terrified, but it was there in his eyes, bright blue and wide and so fucking scared. Thomas almost has to beg Virgil to stay calm and he knows the other is trying, he can feel him fighting against everything in his biology to stay as non-anxious as possible. They come to a room at the end, one of the training rooms, in which Jack pulls Thomas inside and slams the door shut behind him.

Blood was pounding in his ears, his throat felt so dry and his body was screaming against everything to get out of this place as soon as possible. Jack is talking, but the other can barely hear over the scream of his senses. Jack’s eyes are glowing blue and then Marvin is there, his lips draw into a tight line below the outline of his mask. “We’ve got to fight, Thomas, there’s no chance of our survival if we don’t,” He doubles over, coughing furiously. “Water,” He mutters, eyes drawn to a close.

Thomas immediately obliges, he doesn’t have control over this element yet, but a slow stream appears from his hands on command, Jack cups his hands and drinks furiously, Thomas does the same.

You can’t fight fire with fire. The voice in the back of his head talks, it’s strict and commanding so he easily identifies it as Logan. He quickly summons both Logan and Roman, as Jack summons Chase.

“There is only one exit to this building, which none of you can control, so the best hope is to join in the battle, remember, water is your best combatant against fire,” Logan states firmly “Roman will assist you in your battles, although becoming entirely corporeal is taxing on both of you, it’s a necessity right now,” He adjusts his glasses “I will remain in the mindscape and keep you updated with strategies, whilst Patton will keep Virgil calm,” Thomas nods, looking through the wall of the chamber they were secured in. They’d seen people run past but no sight of the creatures yet.

“And in terms of tactics,” Chase chimes in “Jack will keep control of fire, you must keep control of water right now, and I know you’ve not had much training but from what I’ve been told, you’re already pretty good, you’re a much more powerful Witch than you realise Thomas,” He gives a wry, encouraging smile, which Thomas returns greatfully “Now if Jack can get the first hit it with fire, the other will not be able to retaliate, it’s powers will render useless, most of these creatures are based in fire, it’s a great tool of destruction, however you may come across one that is based in another element, if it’s air then use Earth, if it’s water, use air to shatter ice or redirect powerful flow, If it’s Earth, use fire, you’ve got this,”

Chase disappears as Marvin becomes a little less translucent on the outsides of his body, hands moving to conjure what looks like some form of trap. Roman situates himself behind Thomas and next to Marvin as the two push open the door and enter the outside world shakily.


	7. Chapter 7: No avoiding the inevitable

Thomas’ hands are soaked, his entire body feels cold and his stomach heaves. He can barely manage to breathe through lungs that are choking on smoke. Ice daggers have formed in the palm of his hands, before embedding in the throat of another creature. Jack stood behind him, taking the advantage to engulf it in a fire. Its screams echo off the walls and Thomas promptly throws up on the floor, tears in his eyes from exhaustion. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” He hears Jack, feels his attempt to keep the American stable as he inhales and exhales deeply. There was a lot of blood on their hands tonight, this was no simulation.

The bodies trailed in each direction, some of their own, some of the others. Exhausted, Thomas drains himself further to extinguish a fire that had begun to bellow at the end of the corridor. “Is it over yet?” He mutters, his hand coming up to his sore head. Beside him, Roman steadies his body, there’s dirt and blood all over his exhausted face, and he shakes his head.

“I can’t stay corporeal Thomas, you’re too exhausted,” He shivers, and Thomas can see the sheer amount of agony the other is experiencing in one harrowing look. He’s not used to seeing Roman distressed, upset, or anything short of flamboyant and full of life. Right now, he barely looks like his creativity; he barely looks like anything but a ghost.

“It’s okay Princey, get some rest,” He coughs and gives a small, drained smile, trying to straighten himself up. They’d been fighting for over three of four hours now, it felt like an eternity. Between Jack and Thomas they’d gotten into a rhythm, the first time they had killed one of those creatures had been taxing. Thomas had been shaking, felt sick, he could barely adjust to the fact he had killed a living thing as he stumbled after the other man. Eventually, Patton had wilfully dialed down his sense of right and wrong, focusing only on keeping Virgil calm. Thomas had become less centered in what he had caused the moment Patton had turned his attention elsewhere, and he didn’t want to think about how much strain must be put on the other to do so.

Now, however, he was becoming steadily more drained, even as Roman faded back to the mindscape. He straightened himself up and leaned against the wall of the tunnel, tasting metal and smoke in his mouth. Jack leaned next to him, rubbing his back supportively as he tried to help the other man feel more comfortable. The sounds and shouting had died down and Thomas had to beg the question “Was anyone still alive?” He didn’t vocalise it but he didn’t need too, from the look on Jack’s face his thoughts seemed to mirror Thomas’ own.

As they walked, slower, more tired, they could smell burnt flesh, the echoes of people’s lives. Thomas felt his heart clench and tears well up in his eyes. All this…for what? He choked on a sob as he looked around him at the damage, the decay, the death, it all piled up as he pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to breathe steadily without heaving. It’s then when he hears a low groan come from one of the bodies, soft brown eyes peering up at him.

The boy who had been stood next to him in the room when they’d summoned their logical sides was lying on the floor, coughing, there was blood stained to his lips and clothes, like he’d been coughing it up. Thomas immediately rushed to his side, all exhaustion dissipating as he held the other’s hand. “It’s okay, we’re here, we’re going to help you,” The boy’s rough dark hair clung to his forehead, the soft curls plastered with sweat and dirt. Thomas breathes deeply, calm thoughts calm thoughts. He takes himself back to Dodie’s room in his mind, the serenity of the room, the warmth, the smell of candles and flowers, Virgil smiling whilst hugging a book. The boy began to relax, the pain easing from his face.

“Logan?” He calls out, voice shaking “His wounds, what should I do?” Logan rises up, his eyes cold and studious; he circles the boy a few times before reaching a solemn conclusion, hands resting on his hips.

“His burns are minor and will heal, he seems to be dealing more with exhaustion than a physical injury, he will be okay,” He concludes as Thomas lets out a sigh of relief “For now you should get some water on those burns,” The other nods as he concentrates on the water. Water, unlike fire, required a sense of serenity to come forth, a lack of fierce passion and instead just the imagery of what a natural waterfall would feel like. He closes his eyes, already so drained as the water trickles from his fingertips, cold against the searing burns on the others legs. The boy squirms and hisses, eyes darting open.

Eventually, he calmed, breathing gently. “I don’t have any bandages or anything, but we’ll stay here with you until we know it’s safe to continue and we will protect you if we need to,” The boy nods, eyes barely open as he sits up straight, Jack helps him sit against the wall, rubbing his back slowly.

“You’re going to be okay lad,” The Irishman drawls out, giving a small smile “Your wounds are only minor and we’ll be able to get you to a doctor soon enough,” Thomas stands and looks at the two entrances to the cavern, his ears prick up as he hears heavy footsteps, running. Bracing himself, his hands fizzled with his magic and jaw tense, whilst Jack also stands with fire burning at his fingertips.

The silhouette of a figure approaches and tension rises in Thomas’ body, heart beating furiously in his chest. The seconds seemed to move in slow motion, pupils dilated and body warm with the crackle of static, the hairs on the back his neck stood and his stomach clenched with fear.

The figure approached, small, tired, panting. It was Joan. The tension released and Thomas all but doubled over from relief. “It’s all clear,” The ebony haired person says gently, there’s dirt staining their face, blood dried at their fingernails and they looked like hell had just walked through their soul. “They’ve all gone,” They survey the scene around them and close their eyes, taking a deep breath. “The remaining people still alive are to congregate in the halls,” They sound like they’re choking on their own words “Dodie and the other doctors will take care of the injured, and then we must move the dead into there, figure out how to have a proper burial for them all, inform any family they have left and such,” They rub their eyes. “Come on,”

–

The boy they had helped, who limped between them with support from both Jack and Thomas, almost faints twice before they’ve reached the halls. However, once there, another boy comes running up, frantic “Dan? Dan!” Despite lack of energy, the face of the injured man lights up with a smile as the newcomer embraces him. “Thank you, thank you so much, I’ll help him from here, but thank you for bringing him back,” There are tears in the bright blue eyes of the newcomer, whose hair is pitch black and skin deathly pale.

The two hobble off to one of the doctor’s and Jack looks at Thomas. He pulls the other into a firm hug “I’m proud of you Thomas,” He says gently “That was a lot to go through so fast but Chase is right, you are more powerful than you realize,” He pulls away from the grip he has on his friend and student, before looking around him “It looks like a lot of people still survived, we’ll need to get this place re-organized again,” He straightens out his shirt. “You need rest though, go take one of the beds, I need to get this patched up,” He gestures to his arm, which is bleeding and scarred from fire, he had barely noticed until now as the adrenaline faded. “You’ve got a few scratches but you should be okay, although you might need something for the smoke inhalation, you choked on quite a bit of it there,” Thomas nods and looks around “I’ll see you in a bit dude,”

Thomas finds the nearest bed and sits down, resting his head in his hands for a moment. In less than a minute alone with his thoughts, he tells Virgil that he’s okay. Virgil can panic as much as he likes now and like floodgates opening, Thomas is in tears. He feels like his anxious counterpart, his hands shaking whilst his brain tries to work through words and sentences at the pace unbeknownst to humankind. Thomas’ throat chokes back on sobs as his heart pounds rapidly. ‘You killed people,’ they weren’t people, they were attacking them ‘I know but it’s still scary,’ His eyes brim with tears, soaking his cheeks, he inhales but nothing comes out. For a moment he allows himself to just feel it, the Anxiety, the pain, the fear, and then he hears Logan and Patton, telling him to breathe, counting with him.

He regains his breath when Dodie appears, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, relaxing all his muscles, she offers him a drink of water which he sips slowly. “You’ve got this, its okay,” She mutters. “Sleep Thomas, we’ll look after you,” Her eyes are so soft, her smile full of worry, but he feels his body slip away until he is covered by darkness.


	8. Chapter 8: Heal

As Thomas awakes, his drowsy eyelids flicker and flutter whilst they adjust to the bright lights; sleep is clinging to his lashes. His aching body still felt exhausted and he felt as though he had the just been dragged up from hell itself and now he must pay the price of being awake. He hears Jack talking, and rolls over to see the enigmatic man, bandaged arm working at a slower speed to his healthy one, as he talks whilst gesturing grandly. “Oh! He’s awake!” He sees Joan, arms folded and smiling wide, clearly relieved to see him. “You were out for 12 hours we were starting to get just a bit worried,”

Jack sits at the edge of the bed, he looks exhausted but his smile is just as wide as ever, Thomas admired his determination to appear focused, content and happy. “12 hours?” He rubs his eyes, groaning as he sits up. “That’s a long time,” He’s painfully aware of every slow burn that his movement would create, and sighs gently.

“It’s all right, we’ve just finished collecting the bodies now, we moved you into the hospital wing with a few others that are still healing, Jack insisted on staying here to cheer everyone up, until you woke you up and then we could be…relieved of him,” Joan smirks every so lightly as humor is written into their otherwise exhausted face as Jack protests indignantly.

Thomas however, felt a little warmth blossom in his heart, knowing the other had not wanted to leave him until he knew he had been safe. He’s not had anyone care about him that much since he was a child. “Thanks, guys,” He says earnestly, a bashful smile on his face “You really didn’t have to wait around for me,”

“Nonsense!” Jack scoffs “I need to know if I’m getting sued for letting my student get into so much danger!” He ruffles Thomas’ hair like an older brother would and it’s the first time Thomas might actually think he has a genuine family here, watching as Joan dissolves into a fit of giggles. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room, Sophie’s going to be talking to us all later, so you better scrub up nicely!”

Thomas hobbles along to his room with Jack’s help; Joan had stayed behind to help the doctors of the base with their patients. They really do enjoy helping people over everything, which mostly just shows why they chose to be the ‘one person who does every other task that no one else has a job for’ person.

Jack leaves him to shower and get changed, with a promise that he will see him later. Thomas, still mulling over everything that happened, steps into the shower with intense surprise that the hot water actually still functions; the warmth of it seeps over his aching body, and he rests his head against the wall as the heat unwinds the tensely wound muscles. His brain works at a different pace, slower, he thinks Virgil may have exhausted himself in the strenuous activities of the last few days, as his Anxiety is there but not at the hyperactivity it had been. He manages to stumble blankly through drying and getting changed, hardly even aware of anything that was happening. Everything felt cold, off, and he found himself sitting on the floor, head resting against the wall. He focuses on the cracks on the wall, takes in every chip and dent, trying to get his mind to recognize anything.

“You’re dissociating, we’re dissociating,” He’s surprised to hear Logan’s voice, and the sigh of relief that escapes him did not go amiss “We’re all a little exhausted,” He admits quietly, “But we’re still here,” Logan is the last person Thomas expected comfort from, but it’s enough to haul himself up and begin to step towards the door, knowing that at least one of his sides were still in touch with him.

He traipses along to Jack’s room, knocking gently against the door. The place around him was built to withstand a lot of damage, so the surroundings had not changed all that much, but the smell of death and blood hung like a fog throughout the entire base. He looks away from the blood stains, from the little pieces of damage to the walkway and the stairs, and straight into Jack’s beaming face.

The Irishman looked exhausted, completely and utterly exhausted, even with a smile on his shaky lips. His eyes looked completely drained, the bright azure haze shimmering into a dim light like a candle fighting against the wind; Thomas pitied him greatly, the other always felt the need to be the strong one, the happy one, and right now he was fighting every instinct to be both.

“Ready lad?” His voice is rough, grating, tired, he sounds like Virgil. His eyes scanning over Thomas as if to make sure he was okay, he hadn’t really sustained any injuries except for smoke inhalation and a few scratches, it was a miracle really that either of them came out as well as they did.

“Yeah, I’m ready,”

The two walk up towards the hall, eyes averting from the evidence left behind of the battle that had been fought in these corridors, in these rooms. The bodies had all been moved and yet Thomas can still see every single one of them out of the corner of his eyes. He closes them, not wanting to remember glassy eyes and open mouths with charred skin and bloody lips. Jack’s hand lands on his shoulder and Thomas can’t help but wonder if he’s seen devastation like this before.

The hall is packed with survivors, it seemed like there had been so many losses but there were still so many more alive. Thomas exhales a sigh of relief; the initial fear that there had only been a handful of survivors feels a weight lift off of his shoulders. Sophie stands at the front, dressed in black; her tall, slender frame silhouetted against the light and her hair pulled back from her face. She looked older, drained, trying to hold together pieces of a fragmented soul together.

“As you will all be aware of, a lot of casualties were sustained in the recent event, many lives were lost, many more are in recovery now,” Her voice shakes and she struggles to maintain her upright pose, cracking around the edges. “For now, however, we must focus on the survivors, many of you have lost friends, family, loved ones, in this battle, Dodie will be providing counselling sessions with the help of some of her colleagues, to anyone who may need a break; classes will be suspended for at least a week but the training rooms are still open for anyone who wishes to voluntarily work for a distraction or otherwise,” She clears her throat “Joan and some volunteers will be repairing any damage done to the facility, if anyone wishes to join them, please see Joan,” Joan gives a small smile, trying their best to put on a brave face for everyone around them. “That will be all, please have some food and water and rest, we’ve all been through a lot these last few days,”

Thomas looks at the food that was in front of him, it was a large meal, but his stomach lurched at the mere thought of trying to digest it. “You need to eat,” Jack mutters “You’ve not had food in nearly 48 hours, try and eat something,” The man stares down at his plate, before picking up a bread roll and nibbling on it; this seemed to satisfy his friend, who began to eat the meal placed in front of him.

There was a very low chatter in the atmosphere today, usually, the hall was full of people talking loudly, shouting, and laughing. Today it felt like somehow talking was bad, disrespectful, and although people engaged in soft whispers it almost felt like they were breaking an unspoken law to do so. Thomas’ thoughts are interrupted by a tap on his shoulder and looks up to find the face of the boy who had helped him, holding hands with what the American could only assume is his partner of some sort.

“Hey, I’m Dan, this is Phil, we just wanted to thank you both for helping me out,” His face, now clear of mud and blood, looked warmer and full of color, his hair fell in soft curls into his eyes and in general he looked so much more alive. Thomas smiles; it might be the first good thing he’s seen in a couple of days now.

“It was no problem really, glad to have gotten you two back to each other,” Dan smiles wide, he might be the only person in the room to actually be wearing a genuine smile, more than happy to be back safe with his friends. Jack smiles around a mouthful of food, giving a hum of agreement to back up the other’s statement and thumbs up just for clarification. Phil, who they assume is the man stood beside him, laughs gently.

“Well we’re going to head off, but thank you, again, for everything,”

Thomas watches the two leave with a sigh, shoveling some food on to a fork and pushing it reluctantly into his mouth, he managed to get a few forkfuls before he started to gag around it. Exhausted, he threw the fork down onto the plate. “I’m going to go get some sleep, Jack, I’m exhausted,” The Irishman gives his friend a nod of confirmation that he was okay to do this before the brunet boy started to make his way back to his room. He really just wanted to sleep, endlessly, forever, his mind unable to fixate on anything.

The bed was a warm welcome, as he buried himself between the sheet and screwed his eyes completely closed, trying to regulate his breathing, it’s not long before sleep takes over his body and he’s sinking into his dreams.

–

In Thomas’ mind, Logan sat cross-legged, staring at Virgil and Roman’s bodies. Patton handed the other a cup of tea, insisting it will help him think. Although the logical side would usually tell the moral side listlessly that they didn’t need food or water, he decides the comfort alone would do him some good. “They’ve never done this before,” He says gently, the two sleeping figures unable to move. “As in they’ve never been asleep whilst Thomas is awake,”

“We’ve also never seen them exhaust themselves like this,” Patton adds, staring with an uncharacteristically solemn expression at the two figures. “Perhaps once Thomas has slept a little more, they’ll be able to wake up, I’m not…” he trails off and swallows, shaking his head “I hope they’re okay,” Patton sits down between the two, his hand running along their backs to comfort them even in their slumber. “We can’t keep going without them… Thomas can’t keep going without them,”

“They’re dormant, not suppressed, they will still have some level of physical presence within Thomas, Patton, although this is still disconcerting, and I am unsure what to do,” He cracks open a book from seemingly thin air and places it on his lap, flicking through the pages “I’ve never heard of this happening before unless…ah yes,” He places the open book on the floor and clears his throat. “In the event that you should overexert a sides power, they will need to take their own amount of rest, whilst sides characteristically sleep whilst the host does, with exceptions for the dream makers, who will generate a dream for the host before sleeping; when their power usage has been too great they will sleep for as long as they need to regain their energy. The longest documented time for a side to sleep is for a week,”

Patton sighs with relief so they would be okay, they’re just tired. “Poor guys,” He says softly, playing with the violet strands of Virgil’s hair, watching his peaceful face as his chest rose and fell. “I’m sorry you were so tired, I tried to help,” His bottom lip wobbled as he spoke “I really did try to help, but I wasn’t very good,” Logan closes the book slowly, unsure how to help, he takes his cup of tea and moves to sit next to Patton, putting his arm around his shoulders the way he had seen the others do to Virgil many times before.

“They will be okay, and this is not your fault, Patton, this was a series of events completely unrelated to your own adequacy, you did everything you could to console Virgil, and nonetheless he will be fine, as will Roman,” He nods, accepting Logan’s words before resting his head against his hands tiredly. “Thomas is asleep, we should follow suit, it has been a long few days for us all,”

The moral side obliges, standing up with one last look at the two sleeping figures, as he heads through the door. Logan closes it behind them and wonders if the next day will be just as taxing.


	9. Chapter 9: Innate

Dissociation is Thomas’ second instinct. His body moves, his hands touch things, his eyes see things but his brain just doesn’t process it, or anything. He thinks he may have been sat there for an hour, maybe five minutes, time seemingly folding in on itself; his body is corporeal and yet he feels like a ghost. Without Roman to fill him with passion, ideas, creative flow, he seems to feel to fall short of doing anything; it seems that even Logan can’t quite stir his motivation to be productive, and without Virgil, his need or want to respond to activities, to be motivated by his anxiety to be productive, had dissipated.

For two days, he moves without purpose, in a spiral of effect without a cause. He barely leaves his room, he sleeps so much he’s become further exhausted and Logan speculates he may be becoming depressed. Thomas can’t remember the last time he ate and it felt like he couldn’t remember why he even ate food in the first place, with no hope or fear he was simply losing the will to live.

Roman is the first to wake up. He’s tired and drowsy and he looks like death warmed up, but he’s awake. The moment he wakes, Thomas’ will starts to warm up again, like the slow boil of a kettle. He begins to get up, move around a little, noticing the things around him for the first time in days. He still doesn’t leave his room, however, until two hours later when Virgil wakes up.

His anxiety kicks in a whole lot faster, as he washes and sighs, dwelling in some form of self-disgust as he takes in his appearance. Immediately, he brushes his teeth, washes his hair and changes his clothes for the first time in days. His stomach growls and he panics, when was the last time he had eaten, oh god was he going to die? Logan lets out a sigh of relief as Patton helps the two sides to their feet, planting a warm cup of coffee in their hands.

Thomas knocks at Jack’s door, eyes tired but face brighter than ever “Please tell me you have some food, I haven’t eaten in days,” Jack snorts lightly and opens the door for the other to enter, planting a packet of biscuits and a cup of tea into Thomas’ hands. He eats fast through noises of approval, sighing happily around a mouthful of biscuits. At the back of his head, he hears Logan saying ‘slow down you’ll make yourself sick’. “So when can we resume training?” Thomas asks, halfway through the packet as the idea is recalled to the front of his mind.

“Whenever you like Thomas, I was honestly wondering if you wanted too, I haven’t seen you in a few days and I thought maybe you needed space, time to yourself, as it turns out I probably should’ve checked on you, I’m sorry,” He gestures to Thomas’ mouthful of biscuits, to which earns a somewhat embarrassed smile. “In future though, please don’t be afraid to seek help from me or others if you need it, we’re here to support you,”

The American nods, pushing his newly combed brown hair from his tired eyes. Despite the general look of exhaustion, the bags under his eyes, the yawning every five or so seconds, he’d never quite appeared as ready and focused to Jack in his entire time of knowing him. This dude truly does have the potential to go places he thinks to himself, marveling as the other stands and stretches, eyes wide and ready to go.

There’s a lot of strength in Thomas.

–

They train for a couple of hours, Thomas begins to work against Jack in his powers, since everything had happened he’d not gotten assigned a teacher to help him with the other elements as so was basically working off his fire control. “So what I know about air, is the it requires you to think logically, it’s a logical skill, as is earth, you have to understand the mechanics of nature to understand your power,” Jack sits on a bench in the large open space room, his eyes focused on Thomas “I only know theory here so from there you’re going to be self-taught buddy,”

Thomas knows nature, he’s spent his entire life admiring nature, and growing up nature had been the one power he’d learned by himself to have some control over. He’d found biology and ecosystems and environmentalism fascinating as a child, spending half of his time learning about plants and flowers, and animals. When he was ten, his mother had been sad his father had accidentally cut the rose bush down and he’d made another one grow in its place.

Here and now, however, he had to recall the information he’d known then to recreate that moment. “Logan?” He calls out, the logical side appears, arms crossed and jaw set firmly, adjusting his glasses. “How do vines form?”

“Vines are a type of plant that ‘climb’ so to speak, it’s suggested this is an evolutionary tactic so that they can gain support in order to grow, as well as reach the necessary elements in which to grow for example sunlight or rainwater,” Like a pocket dictionary, the other sets off, instilling the knowledge into Thomas as he closes his eyes. “A growth form is created on long stems, from there the plant will continue to grow or climb up their chosen structure,” Thomas closes his eyes, his arms outstretched. There was a hole where sunlight came through in this room; his palms face outwards with the light shining onto them. Slowly, roots began to form along his forearm, reaching out from under his skin, green started to grow. Poison Ivy. The leaves sprouted slowly but surely, catching the sunlight against them as it began to grow further and further outwards, their tendrils wrapping around his arms before reaching his fingertips. Slowly the growth reached outwards towards the light. He can understand the plant, and the plant seems to understand him as he moved his arm suddenly it shoots outs, aiming perfectly through the hole where the light had been shining. He allows the plant to leave him and it slowly begins to grow back up through the hole, searching for life beyond this underground city.

Jack grins, enthralled. “I always thought Earth was the coolest specialty to have, you can do so much with it, so much comes from nature, us, plants, animals, the Earth always gives,”

“And we always take,” Thomas says softly, tracing the part of his arms where the pant had been “That’s what humans are designed to do, Witch or no Witch,” He cups the palm of his hands and a flower blooms in the light, it’s rouged petals glistening. He hands it to Jack with a small smile, sitting next to him. But the moment this flower leaves Thomas’ hands, it wilts and dies. “Sorry, it doesn’t have roots, like the vine, no way to sustain itself outside of my energy,”

The Irishman shrugs “It’s fine, it was nice to look at anyway,” Logan sits beside the two and stares around the large, open room with a thoughtful expression. His eyebrows furrow as he considers for a moment.

“You never learned how to manage Earth,” He says finally, slowly, the cogs in his brain working “It was always innate in you as you grew, fire came to you when you were angry, and now you’ve been taught how to use it, but Earth, it was always there, no one taught you how to control it,” He looks at Thomas carefully “I think you might have a specialty after all Thomas, one element that overall you just felt innately attached too,” Thomas’ eyebrows raise as he looks down at his hands, where the wilted flower had laid. It’s true. He had never had to truly consider his usage of Earth, he had simply loved it enough for it to almost…control him in a way, and he had an understanding with nature because ever since he was young he had wanted to pursue Environmentalism.

“Logan, I think you’re right,” A giddy smile crosses his lips and Jack claps him on the back, a smile on his own face.

“Man that’s the best news I heard all week,” The Irishman sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. “Seriously, good for you dude, I’m happy for you, it’s at least one thing you don’t need to study endlessly,” Thomas nods “You will need to do some work on it, a lot of re-learning I imagine, but not to the same extent as the others,”

Thomas feels a whole lot lighter now, letting out a sigh he hadn’t known he was waiting to let out, things felt a whole less like they were weighing on him. “Yeah, I’ll be getting somewhere with my powers now, at least, anyway, let’s work on water a bit, come on Jack, set something on fire,” A hearty laugh left the other as he stood up, following after his excited friend. Logan felt a small smile tug at his lip, cracking open a book and observing the two as they got along.

-


	10. Chapter 10: Fire and Fury

Two slow weeks had crept by since the attack had first occurred and with slow progress the inhabitants of the attacked base were pulling themselves together again, engaging in their training with a more firm and determined approach than before. The awakening of knowing what truly was at stake now made everyone fearful and keen to become stronger to protect themselves- and their friends.

Thomas had taken to training alone at night, his energy growing in hopes of defeating those things, those witches that had created such devastation. He liked the silence of the night and the loneliness it brought, the atmosphere made it easy for him to connect with his soul and the components within them that controlled his powers.

They held a service of kinds for those who had lost their lives in battle. It had been a multi faith service, where different people had stood up to talk about their friends and say a prayer for their own faith and anyone who shared their faith could pray too, whilst others would simply pay their respects.

Classes started to resume, at the request of those who wished to train again, those who were not quite ready were more than welcome to have more time to recover.

Thomas had started confiding in Dodie a little more to better understand his magic; in return she had introduced Thomas to the spiritual practice of meditation. When calm it becomes much easier to control an element that requires peacefulness to thrive, making a common practice for Earth Witches. Water and Air were similar in this respect, whilst fire thrived off of anger and passion; it was an element that grew in heat and fury, which made it a wonderful battle element.

In the process of learning to meditate he was slowly learning how to practice the tactic of calming his anxiety; placing hands on his knees in a closed circuit, allowing all of his energy to simply flow through him. It gave him more head space to practise very simple forms of magic, like growing plants and helping them thrive away from his magic.

Dodie explained that when the war between Witches and Humans is finally over Earth specialists within the magic community have plans to help the Earth thrive again and it was very important goal to them; this had interested Thomas too, saving the rainforest had been an aspiration of his since he was a child.

Thomas’ hand lay open on his knee, the energy of life humming in his veins as his heart pumped blood through him; for a moment he can feel it, his own blood that is, with his heart thrumming against his ribcage like a hummingbird tapping against a cage. The turn of the Earth itself seemed to be so benign now even though he swears he can feel its rotation.

The tips of petals brush across the palm of his hands and the crinkling of leaves allows him to open his eyes. Jack watched, bouncing a little flame between his fingertips with a smile. The roots grew from the flower, clinging onto Thomas’ energy like a child to a parent. He slowly lowered the plant into the pot. “As we planned?” Jack allowed the flame to grow a little bigger but keeps it contained in a small atmosphere of its own as it remained hovering at the top of the room. The row of newly potted plants remained at a diagonal to the small fiery ball, gratefully receiving the energy.

“I hope this works,” Jack muttered “It’s nice to have some plants down here, sometimes I forget what fresh air is actually like,” Thomas smiles but his gaze is lost in marvel at their joint creation and attempt for sustaining nature “It’s good that you’ve found yourself a project that will take your mind off things, whilst learning more about yourself at the same time,”

“Yeah I went into Environmental studies when I was in college,” He pauses, folding his arms with a sigh “I couldn’t afford to keep going though and dropped out, got a job and well…now I’m here, plus Human Environmental Studies is kind of boring,” Jack chuckles gently “But this is fun, I’ve never had the time to try something like this before, now that learning about this stuff is kind of a necessity for understanding myself and what I can do, it’s…less time consuming, plus Dodie really loves the idea,”

He stares down at the plants with a small smile “Are we going to train today, I think I’m really starting to get the hang of controlling fire now,” This much was true, his ability to control the size of the fire had certainly improved over the last couple of weeks, the strength and heat was a different issue however.

“I would love too, but I’m exhausted, do you think you’ll be okay on your own today?” Thomas gives a small, albeit disappointed, smile and squeezes the other’s shoulder.

“Not a problem dude, go get some rest I’ll see you tomorrow,” The door closes behind the both of them, leaving the American man to give the plants one last surveying look, making sure all elements of his design were in place before the door closed behind him. He heads over to the training room alone, standing in the centre with a slow inhale, exhaling again.

The low light of the room bathed everything in a cold blue glow. His breath exhaled in a long wisp of smoke and his light brown eyes followed it for a moment. Thomas’ silhouette stands out against the light as he holds out a hand and focuses. He searches his memory and seals his mind in the past for an exercise of mental strength; remembering that night and the fear that had thrummed through his veins coupled with the smell of burning and copper. The brown eyes shut and for a moment he can taste the smoke even now.

The anger comes next, the anger at the sound of agony and terror, the sight of death send electricity shooting through him. He could feel his blood boil. The tips of his fingers glow firmly whilst a small fire appears. Control he thinks to himself firmly, allowing the physical presence of the anger to dissipate just a little.

The difficult part was balancing his emotions, conjuring two separate emotions to balance the size and weight of the flame in his palms. He thinks of his mother and his father and the happiness of his childhood, the way his mother had laughed endearingly and yet fearfully at the sight of Patton hanging off the chair as Thomas giggled. She’d somewhere along the line ended up with five sons instead of just one and she hadn’t minded in the slightest really. The happy emotion sat next to his anger, flicking from one memory to another to keep it the size of a tennis ball. He let’s go of the happiness when he’s ready, palm outstretched and focused to a spot on the wall as he dwelled in his angriest moments.

He remembers his ex-boyfriend, the way he would spit venom with alcohol on his tongue, the way he would scream in Thomas’ face. He remembers how helpless he had felt right before he’d completely floored the bastard. He remembers his mother’s funeral and the fear that had catalysed such a strong breakdown he’d set a tree on fire. It had been the first time he’d realised his powers extended beyond flowers.

His soft brown eyes are glowing amber and his hand is engulfed in flame, but he doesn’t stop. He thinks about Dan, the boy he’d saved, lying in his own blood, coughing, crying, he remembers the dead and the screams of horror. The line between fear and anger cross indefinitely but it’s what he needs.

He thinks about the angriest moment of his life, as the tendrils of the fire reach from his hands and all the energy in his body sears. He thinks about the day he had been discovered. His eyes close and he sinks into the moment as though he is there in person, spectating from underneath the blurry waves of a memory.

He’d taken a shortcut home that day, through the alleyway at the back of a pub; it had smelt like beer and urine and the air tasted bitter as if he were walking through a factory. There had been a man and a girl, and Thomas stood in the shadow of the entrance with shock on his face as she screamed for help. The man had a knife and Thomas had felt anger like he’d never felt it before. He didn’t have time to focus before the fire and he had been one. He doesn’t know whether the man died but he remembers a sick joy in hearing him scream. The girl ran away and so did Thomas but the damage had been done. He was running for his life.

In the present, fire curled around his forearm and shot like a volcano erupting; heat curled through the Manifestor’s body and his nerves seared with feeling. The flames hit the wall with a speed that he had never achieved before, curling backwards on itself before he allowed the memories to fizzle away from the forefront of his mind, instead calling forward his production of happier memories. Poor Patton must be working overtime. He thinks of Jack, of his warm happiness and optimism for life, despite everything he was still him, a person who sought to make other’s lives better.

He bends over and catches his breath, hands still warm from the heat as he sits down in the middle of the room. That was the best run he’d done so far; not wanting to exhaust Patton however, he decided to keep that there. It was certainly becoming easier for him to control and that was enough for him to get out of this late night practice.

Thomas sits, back straight and eyes closed, falling into a blank space of mind, where the room is warm but not hot and the sun streams through the open windows. In this room, his memories hang on walls and the sides all bring him closer, sitting down. Virgil seems to be eating a bowl of cereal at the breakfast bar, giving a small wave and smiling under tired eyes. Roman is sat on the floor with colouring pencils all around him and Logan and Patton appear to be talking loudly over a book.

They all greet him individually in what he has aptly named the “Mind Palace,” a corner of his mind undisturbed from the outside world where he could sit and think and dwell for a while with his sides. This is usually where they would discuss issues or matters arising but in the turn of events he’d almost forgot it existed until now.

“You’re certainly improving Thomas,” Logan stands, tucking the book under his arms “You set a new speed, new amount of time for controlling the size and weight of the flame, you’re certainly seeming to gain a lot of control,” Patton, who looks a little pale from all the memory conjuring nods as he stands also. Patton is the one in control of Thomas’ memories, ll of which are kept stored in his room like a pile of old photographs, he was the one who kept them as preserved as he could.

“And the plant idea is so cute!” He sequels despite his clear tiredness, a wide smile on his face as he bounces on the balls of his feet excitedly. “Honestly kiddo, I think that it will be great for you! And the planet of course! Having something to look after will keep your motivation going,” Logan hums in agreement to Patton’s statement.

“Virgil and Roman are also recovering steadily from their ‘clock out’ although Virgil simply won’t stop eating no matter how many times I tell him that it will have no impact on him because we’re not human,” He hears a protest from Virgil, whose mouth is full of cereal.

“I don’t think you understand the concept of comfort food Logan,” Thomas chuckles, in which Virgil gives a single thumbs up and nods with a gesture that said ‘see he gets it’. Logan sighs audibly.

“You’re right I don’t, I don’t generally feel the need for comfort food…or comfort anything really,” the logical side blinks with pursed lips, looking from Thomas, to the book in his hands “Nonetheless Thomas is there something you wished to consult us on? Or this just one of those check in’s you do?”

“Just a check in, you’re free to go and read your book Logan, I’m sure it’s…interesting,” The other in question goes to open his mouth to explain what the book concerned, but at the shake of Thomas’ head, simply resides to leaving. Thomas gives a short wave to the others; Roman who hadn’t spoken yet still looked incredibly exhausted and only smiled in return. “Hope you feel better soon Princey,” He nods in thankful response before Thomas fades back into reality.

Back to feeling the cold, wooden floor, he stands and begins to walk towards the door with his hands buried in his pockets. The room feels so still and cold as he leaves and the lights seemed dimmer than when he had exited to the dream space. He puts it down to his imagination when a shadow shifts and decides he’s very ready to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11: Glitch

Thomas wakes up to the sound of frantic knocking on his door and complete darkness. The lights had completely gone out and in response his heart hammered in his chest. In complete pitch black, he finds his eyes drawn to the door in which the noise was coming from, eyes adjusting to his surroundings long enough for him to clamber out of bed and summon fire to his hand, both to see and as a defence. At the back of his head, he can hear Virgil demanding he doesn’t open the door, but curiosity, which is usually Logan’s forte despite the obvious logic to not open a knocking door when you can barely see, gets the better of him.

Jack’s on the other side, but he’s not quite looking right, behind him all of his sides are there and something…someone else. He looks like Jack, the same face at least, but his neck has been slit open and gushes blood, his eyes are pitch black and his teeth are so sharp they pull over the top of his lip; in his ears are black gauges and his hair is as green as grass on a dark night. “We have a situation,” Jack says, he looks exhausted, and the other version of his grins. “That’s why he’s here,” They move into Thomas’ room quickly “Lock the door,” He mutters, hands trembling and running through his hair. “This is Anti, he’s the worst half of me, encompasses a lot of horrible, awful things that I don’t really have the time to list or want to particularly talk about but I’m going to need him for this,”

Thomas feels his chest constrict, the lack of sureness about the situation was making Virgil panic, and Logan frustrated. He brings a hand up to his shoulder, trying to imitate calmness. It somewhat works but this is not a calm situation and he’s not quite discovered how to force his mind to remain calm in the slightest. “Jack, you’re scaring me dude, what’s going on?”

The Irishman takes a deep breath “They’re here, again, somewhere in this building and…they’re looking for you Thomas, they want you,” Any sense of calm disappeared from Thomas’ body, he felt fear run straight through his spine like ice, coldness reaching the tip of his fingers as the hair on his body stood on ends. Terror must have been written straight across his face because Marvin and Chase are immediately by his side, trying to reassure him as Jack paces the room. The other side…Anti, leaned against Thomas’ desk, surveying the room with an expression of nonchalance, he was neither here nor there about the risk on his life, so why was Jack summoning him?

It dawns on him that this…embodiment of Jack’s evil, of his anger, his disgust, his bloodlust is stood right next to him, albeit not completely corporeal as he glitches like a computer mechanism. Jack had previously said there were parts of him he never wished to show and would never dare to summon, and yet to save Thomas he would sacrifice his morality, knowing full well it could turn on him. The American swallows hard, could he let him do that? Could he truly on his conscience allow Jack to do something he had sworn never to do for Thomas’ sake? Something in the sharpness of Jack’s eyes tells Thomas that he doesn’t have a choice.

“These creatures, they’re relentless killing machines and I suppose for once I will have to fight fire with fire, you’re my friend Thomas, I can’t let them take you,” His arms are full of Jack in a second, feeling the other hug him close with his face buried in the other’s shoulder. “I can’t let them, so I’m going to let Anti become corporeal, it’s a win-win situation really, he gets to kill people and I get to protect you,” The being, if he could truly be called any resemblance of a human, glitches and suddenly he’s right next to Thomas, startling him into stepping backwards, eyes wide.

“I won’t hurt you,” He hissed, voice deep, processed, like it had been run through a computer not a voice box. “I don’t care who I kill either,” He nuances with a smirk that glinted with intent. “I have been given my orders however, and unfortunately I don’t get a choice in following those,” His right eye is suddenly glowing green, a mist rising off of it like it was on fire, where an iris should be is a bright moss coloured ring “Not yet anyway,”. Thomas swallows nervously, and the glitch is by the door. “Now let’s get our fucking asses moving if you want to protect the…germ,”

Jack smiles at Thomas, but there’s so much fear behind it. “Joan is coming here in five minutes, they will explain in more detail, I’ll see you Thomas,” The sides disappear, all of them and Thomas’ eyebrows furrow and it’s not until Jack looks back up that he realises that it’s no longer Jack at all. The Irishman wasn’t kidding when he said the glitch was powerful, as the blackened eyes stare back at him with a smile that sent unease straight through him. He doesn’t say a word, just opens the door and leaves.

The sides appear one after the other, Logan first, pacing furiously as he noted that there was no escape from this room without encountering danger. Roman is next, looking deathly pale as he sits in the desk chair with one hand propping his head up; Thomas knew that his creative, passionate side would be far too exhausted to do as they had done last time, but it begged the question, what would these Witches want with Thomas?

Patton appears with Virgil. Virgil, whose skin looks so tight on his frame that he mimics that of a skeleton, eyes dark and gaunt and blackness of eyeshadow spreading down past his cheekbones; he looked exhausted and ill as his red-ringed eyes blink up at the other, shaking his head. Patton has a comforting arm around his shoulder and Virgil was all but burying himself in the other, seeking comfort.

Another knock comes at the door and everyone tenses, looking rapidly between each other as if waiting for some sort of signal “Thomas! It’s me, Joan,”

It’s a bad day for everyone it seems, as Thomas opens the door to a shell-shocked Joan, ebony hair sticking up in any and all directions and lips pressed into a firm line, they rush in and the door is locked behind them both. “Okay, so I assume Jack gave you a rundown of everything that has occurred in the last half an hour, the plan is that we get you out of here, to the surface and make a break for it, these people they’re…”

“What do they want from me, Joan? I’m no powerful Witch; shouldn’t they want someone like Sophie? Or Jack? Someone who has complete control of their powers? I don’t…I don’t understand and,” He gestures wildly to Virgil who almost looks like an animated dead body “He’s not okay,” Joan nods, looking between the four assets of Thomas’ personality and Thomas himself with a look of defeat.

“In truth Thomas, you’re a very rare case, a Manifestor with all four elemental powers it’s…it’s almost unheard of, it makes you a very unique and powerful person, we didn’t want to tell you that as it stands there is currently no other person like you on this Earth, we thought it might freak you out and given that you already have issues with Anxiety, we thought we would save it until you’ve properly settled in, and with all these issues cropping up…” Thomas bites down on his lip, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, how do we get out of here?” Joan steps forward, inhaling and exhaling as if trying to control their own anxiety, Thomas sometimes forgets that non Manifestors don’t get the privilege of sitting down their sides and sorting them out, that’s only a battle Joan can face with themself.

“We have to make it to the control room, from there I can access the panel, we’ll get out this way to the surface and hide until we can be sure everything’s safe,” The air ripples around their hands “We’re likely to have to fight our way out, and I can’t guarantee the safety of Jack or any of the others down here,” Thomas swallows his own breath but he feels like he’s choking on the very thing meant to preserve his body. Patton already looks confused, scared, his morality is very much not happy with the prospect of leaving his friends to die.

“This is all my fault,” Thomas whispers, backing up against his desk and bracing himself against it “Oh god,” He chokes again, this time on tears as his stomach twists and his mouth goes dry in attempt to talk “They’re all going to die because of me,” Joan’s hands are stabilising him, their eyes soft and full of care.

“It’s not your fault Thomas, please get that out of your head right now, this is not your fault,” They help him straighten up, “You need to focus on getting out of here, Sophie and the others will deal with it from there, come on,” Thomas nods and holds out his hand in a gesture for the sides to return to their vessel, himself.

The door opening feels painful and drawn out, listening for any movement as fire dances in his hand across his fingertips like candles in the wind. They step out, and the heavy door clangs shut behind them both, once again Thomas is running from a place he called home, once again it was because of something he never even asked for, something he’d never even wanted. They head left, running in desperate attempt for time to speed up.

The corridors seem so endless now, chasing up them like a bat fresh out of hell, each twist and turn adding more fear and frustration to the duo as their feet pounded against the metal floors. Through the tunnels Thomas could hear shouts and screams and the smell of fire and rain polluted the oxygen that surrounded the two getaways. They’re almost there; Jack can see the door when a figure moves in the frame, causing Thomas to skid to a halt. “Joan! No!” He shouts as warning, and the other turns around in confusion.

Thomas doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that moment as time slows whilst blood pounded in his ears, Joan’s face frozen in confusion before it turned to agony. The time it took for them to fall to the ground must have been a second or less but from the Manifestor’s point of view he documented every essence of the last moments of Joan’s life and stretched it across eternity. A scream is leaving his lips as Joan’s lips turn blue and their skin drains instantaneously of blood, ice creeps over their body from the entering point of a razor sharp, glass like shard of ice.

The being advanced but as air rushed past him, it was stopped in it’s tracks by a glitching outline of a human, and then it too falls to the ground, somewhat quicker, somewhat mercilessly. Thomas is on his knees beside Joan’s body, screams ripping out of his throat and tears pouring from his eyes. The glitch, whose eyes can’t stay on the other for longer than a second, grabs Thomas and begins to drag him into the room. “Joan! JOAN!” He’s screaming repeatedly, legs kicking but Anti is much stronger and much more determined to get the other out than he is at resisting.

“Shut yer fuckin mouth, yer gonna get us fuckin killed,” He growled, throwing him down onto the platform. “People die every day, kid, get fuckin used to it,” The Glitch is flipping switches, pushing buttons on the controls, Thomas doesn’t know if he knows what he’s doing, he doesn’t care as his body shakes and trembles. His friend had died because of him. “Come on, let’s get out of this place, and then you can have yer fuckin loverboy back, this place reeks,” Thomas barely has a sound to leave his mouth before the two of them are gone.

The sun burns. That’s the first thing Thomas thinks after a month underground, it hurts as he blinks furiously trying to adjust through squinting eyes. The second thing Thomas thinks is that it’s cold, he’s shivering and he hadn’t brought his jacket; he registers this. The last thing he notices is that Anti is no longer there, and instead is the panting, choking form of his friend trying to inhale the air into his lungs like he’d forgotten how to breathe. Thomas scrambles over to him, helping him up. “Joan,” Jack says, his voice sounded like he’d smoked several cigars and then chugged a bottle of whiskey, rough and shaking. “Joan,” There’s tears rolling out of his now cerulean eyes, blinking furiously. “They’re dead…they’re…” Thomas hugs him, pulling him close. “We need to get out of here,” The Irishman finally demands, furiously wiping his tears. “Come on Thomas,”

The two set off in any direction, running as if all the adrenaline in their body served one purpose; to get as far as fuck away from this place as they could. Their survival was key from this moment forward. They get about five minutes away before the sky turns black, the air crackles and the pressure changes instantaneously around them. Turning around to look behind them, the space where the hideout had been was pouring the shapes of people and thick black fog from its midst.

“Oh fuck,” Jack whispers as the morning sun turns to night in front of their eyes, grabbing Thomas’ arm “Run,”


	12. Chapter 12: no rest for the wicked

Thomas is not a runner. He hates running, or to be honest anything that requires any form of fitness level over “beginner,” which for his current lifestyle, is not exactly adequate. His lungs scream in protest whilst his muscles clench and cramp, but he doesn’t have the time to focus on his physical pain right now. Adrenaline pumping through his body and sweat clinging to his skin, his life is in danger.

Jack seems to be better at this, more agile, fast on his feet, but even his stamina is running very, very thin. They didn’t even know where they were running too, only that the ground is wearing thin underneath them and hell was hot on their tails.

Thomas gives out first, in a dark alleyway as he coughs up whatever air is left in his lungs “I physically can’t run any further,” He forces out, voice rough and clinging to the constriction of his lungs like time flowing through the hourglass. His companion leans against the opposite wall, gasping for air as his head leans against the brick, rubbing a hand over his face and rubbing his eyes. “We’re not going to win this one Jack,” He says softly, defeat laced along his tongue. “It’s not worth the perishing of an entire city just for me,”

People are running past the alley, the tell-tale sight of smoke and fire shimmers in the horizon and Jack wants to say that Thomas was worth every single person on this earth, his best friend, his student; a boy so in love with the world would now be forgotten by it. He doesn’t say anything however; he just sinks to the ground with a numb display sewn into where an expression should be.

Thomas moves over and sits next to him, in the silence of the blacked out sun, they sit and wait. “I’ll die before I let them take me,” He says firmly, the first spar of bravery or stupidity, that was yet to be seen, since he’d discovered he was a Witch. Jack nods; there are tears in his eyes as he studies his own hands.

“I know,” Is all he says for a moment, accent thick amongst the waterfall trying to pour from his already blue eyes, “And I will too,” He grasps Thomas’ hand maybe in a show of solidarity, maybe in the name of friendship, even he doesn’t know but the bronze eyed man is grateful nonetheless for the little comfort he can receive. They’re not really hiding, only recharging for the inevitable as they sit still together and begin to talk.

“So that thing Anti did before he like…possessed you, how did you do that? How did he do that? I didn’t even know that was possible,” He wants all the answers he could get out of Jack, if this might be the last time he’ll ever get to ask.

“That’s called repossession, it’s something that takes years of training as a Manifestor to do normally, but Anti has always been a difficult bastard so I mostly had to train to stop him from doing that, Sophie said it’s likely to be because of an early exposure to a lot of evil, making Anti and me at a 50/50 odds over my own body so I had to train to get him down to about 25/75, it wasn’t easy, he’s not an easy person to deal with and he’s always talking at the back of my head,” The Irishman sighs, he sounds so very unbelievably tired.

“He’s uh…pretty terrifying, I thought Logan was cold and unemotional but he’s…he’s just sheer anger in a human shell, what’s with the neck cut?” Jack stiffens visibly, jaw clenching, shuffling nervously.

“He tried to kill me, us, all of us, himself, he didn’t entirely have a reason it’s just all some fun to him, he’s not afraid of death and that’s what generally makes him so fucking terrifying,” Thomas squeezes the other man’s hand, two martyr’s waiting for death on the cold ground of a dirty alleyway in an unnamed coast side city. The outside air drifts over their faces and despite how foul it smells, they’re both happy to see the outside world again, feel the sun burning through their irises and taste a breeze heavily polluted by the product of humanity.

They sit in silence for what feels like an endless forever, shaking from the cold and the fear, until darkness is cast from one end of the alleyway. “Isn’t this precious?” The voice sounds like it is hissing, like pressure being released from a tire as the two clamber too their feet. “Or pathetic,” There’s fire brimming at Jack’s fingertips already and Thomas is desperately trying to recall if he’s ever heard one of these things talk, ever. “Thomas Sanders surrender yourself, you belong with us, not these pathetic creatures of light, you are a Witch, not a human’s toy, and Witches should not to live as such,”

“I’ll pass thanks, bloodshed isn’t really my thing,” His voice is shaking. The creatures steps forward, its skin merging with the bone of its skull, the teeth protruding from it in sharp and blackened needle formation. How did these things become so corrupt? What causes such a deformation? He doesn’t get an answer as the eyes of the creature blinks firmly, full of shadows, and raises a slender hand.

Thomas ducks before the creature has a second to flick it’s wrist, sending fire hurling wards them; in an instant he’s summoning ice from the flick of his wrist, impacting the creature seconds before a wall of fire descends from Jack and engulfs its skin. The creature, the Dark Witch, extinguishes it, pulling the ice from its body like it was merely a scratch. “Fuck,” Jack mutters, stepping backward “Anti,”

Thomas blinks, stepping away as Jack’s body crumples, glitches like a computer virus or a video game character. Darkness shrouded him as the tips of his hair darken and his eyes turn black, his body merging into something different. Thomas swallows, he feels no safer with Anti than he did with these creatures but he knows Jack still has some control over the glitch. The sharp teeth glint and blood begins to collegiate on the pale skin of what was Jack’s neck.

“That’s more like it,” the dark eyed creature cackles, their hands ready to form fire but Anti is faster. Impossibly fast in a way that physics is sure not to co-operate with, his body glitching in and out of physical existence until he’s placed himself behind the witch. Taking his cue, Thomas summons Earth in the form of needle sharp, spiked plants that string from his hands with brute force, wrapping around the body of the other and pulling impossibly tight, restraining and damaging the vessel of whatever monster lay within. As he carried out his attack, flame erupted against the figure at Anti’s hands. Bound by elements beyond its control, the creature can only struggle and scream at the sensation of being burned alive. 

“We will get you Thomas, no matter how hard you fight,” Thomas steps forward, the flames flicking in his irises. He says nothing. He has nothing to say and honestly he isn’t sure what to think, somewhere in his mind Patton slinks into the shadows with closed eyes. As the creature suffocates, Antisteps over the lifeless body and leaves it to burn. With a glitch, Jack is back and resting his head against the wall once again.

The two stare at each other with nervous expressions, taking deep breaths of air that smelt of burned flesh. There was no going back from their nature now.


	13. Chapter 13: unlucky

Surrounded; heartbeat pounding against his ribcage as Thomas’ eyes bore into the wall of death that circled the two like birds of prey. They were completely and utterly surrounded. Jack’s hands brim with fire, pouring out of him like a waterfall crashing against the waves, whilst Thomas’s had frozen with tendrils of ice prepared and ready to strike. There’s a deafening silence over the roar of blood in his ears, a pause of stillness where each opponent seems to watch the other.

Jack moves first, fire bricking itself in a sheet, or perhaps more like a wall as it pushes towards his enemies whilst they fight back with their own powers. Thomas has a more strategic advantage from there, patterns of ice forming from his fingertips into a shield of protection that extinguishes his opponent’s attacks like a black hole engulfing the debris of space. The moment the Dark Witch becomes confused and steps back, is the moment that shards of ice protrude from the shield and embeds itself in three of the opposing Witches’ necks. He watches them scramble to protect themselves but an area so weak leaves them unable to breathe as they collapse.

Thomas turns to help Jack with the Witches on his side; but his shield of ice was not going to take much resistance with the amount of heat pouring between them.

It was interesting to watch them dual as he steps back to allow Jack more room; Jack was quick, fast and strong, he held up the advancing wall as it began to push back against the conjoined flames of the three Dark Witches on his side. Letting the shield of ice fall, Thomas stands beside Jack and inhales gently. He can imagine Patton and Roman stood alongside, working together to conjure his memories of anger and passion, the first one reaches his forefront and the flames began to pour. He fixates on the worst parts of himself as they conjoin with Jack’s and slowly start to push the opposition firmly further away.

The creatures were wailing and their lack of tactic and strength was one easily to be overwhelmed as the two pushed their efforts against them. In the last seconds of their lives, Thomas can see their eyes, wild and terrified like a frightened animal staring back at him, his heart tinged with guilt as they’re engulfed in the flames and his powers die out. He’s somehow relieved to be feeling the moral weight of his actions; it’s a reminder that he’s still human.

He watches them, flailing and screaming as their skin begins to burn and then looks away with his heart and mind aching. Again, in his head he can see and hear Patton, hear him talk softly with reassurance he knows that his morality doesn’t want to give; Patton was usually so moral to a fault that it must hurt him so badly to see this happen.

But they don’t have time to linger in their guilt, beginning to run along the coast line as silhouettes against a red sky, the sun burning low as it dips beneath the shadowing skyline. The entire atmosphere felt too still, too cold in contrast to the blood in Thomas’ veins that boils in attempt to keep his heart going despite the onslaught of physical movement he had been doing.

They stand at the entrance to the hideout that had been their home, waiting and wondering if there was anyone at all still in there. The answer comes when their surroundings dissolve away from them like salt in water and they stand in the control room faced with a sombre Sophie and a terrified Talyn. “I’m sorry,” Thomas whispers but she only shakes her head tiredly, there’s no room for her to blame a boy who had only just discovered who is he is. And really, she should’ve told him from the start that he was so powerful. So caught up in her attempts to keep him comfortable, she had forgotten that they were not the only witches in the world who would want Thomas by their side.

“I’m sorry about Joan,” Thomas whispers, tears pricking in his eyes as he leans against the control panel, lungs screaming and body weakening, he was a picture of someone who had lost almost everything, who carried the burden of hundreds of lives. But then Sophie’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and Jack stands beside his best friend comfortingly.

“Joan’s not dead,” Thomas’ heart takes a second to restart, his hands clenching at the metal panel as his head darts up. Light flickered in his eyes with some good news, finally, some good fucking news. “Almost dead, but alive enough for Dodie to patch them up, petrified to all hell as well,” Thomas knees buckle and Jack steadies him firmly as the other tries to catch his breath. That’s at least one life saved out of God knows how many.

“We’re getting everyone out of here before they come back, moving further inland to a different place but, Thomas, I don’t think we can protect you here,” There’s a melancholia in her eyes and perhaps, also, fear. “Their leader wants you alive, at least, but from there he will suppress your morality until it dies or becomes corrupted, the best hope you have is to fight, I’m sorry, but my first priority now is all these lives I promised to protect, I don’t have the answers this time,” The door opens and some people pile in, looking to be at various stages of exhausted but otherwise perfectly healthy. He doesn’t see Dan and Phil amongst them and his heart sinks with growing melancholia.

Jack glances around and notes the same, swallowing. Two friends they’d saved once couldn’t be saved again. “You’re just giving up on him?” The teacher growls, genuine anger replacing his usual expression of calm in a way that reminds Thomas of Anti, just for a second.

“I’m sorry Jack, but I can’t protect him any better than he can protect himself and we’ve lost so many people,” Thomas tunes out the arguing as he looked at the tired faces around him, none of them seem angry with him though, faces of sympathy and pity crossing each pair of eyes that looks at him.

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, wiping his eyes “It’s…fine, Sophie’s right,” the two stop their arguing “This is my fault and my mess and I’m just going to have to fix it alone,” The elder’s expression softens, her hand resting on Thomas’ shoulder as she shakes her head.

“This is not your fault Thomas, these people, these creatures they’re bloodthirsty, evil creatures and they chose you to be their victim, it’s not your fault, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you further,” She steps back and the American man offers a small, tight and forgiving smile, it’s not her fault either. She moves back over to the controls and begins to type away, as the world around them melts into static and light, Thomas thinks he might have left a piece of himself back in that room.

Back in the outside world, the sun had set and the two tired men begin to walk further down the beach, kicking up sand. Tired of running and maybe just a little tired of living, they look up at the night’s sky and wish they could sink to a place among the stars that shone like diamonds sewn into a pitch black cloth.

They sit in the sand and wait, tired of all the fighting, tired of all the energy and accepting perhaps this was really, truly not a fight they could win. There was comfort in the fact they would not die alone but with the best friends they could ever have in life. Time ticked by so slowly and agonisingly. The sky was black, the night was dark, and they simply sat and waited for the end.

The air is so still, the taste of salt water littered it as the waves fell over each other calmly and slowly, overlapping like two friends in a wide world. “I didn’t think I was ready to die,” Jack says gently “But I know if I was going to be ready, it would be with you, here and now, you’re the only and best friend I’ve ever made Thomas, I was so lonely before I met you,” The hazel-eyed man lifts and arm around his friend comfortingly, squeezing his arm.

“You can still go Jack, you can still leave there are more people in this world that you can meet and make friends with,” His eyes are soaked in sadness as they register that his friend was essentially sacrificing himself to a painful agony to be by his side. So that he wouldn’t die alone; so neither of them would die alone.

“I don’t want to go,” He replies, his accent thick in the night’s silence “I want to stay here with you so that neither of us leaves this world frightened and alone, any semblance of fear kind of just disappears when I’m with you, you’ve become like a little brother to me, and I want more than anything to protect you,” Thomas doesn’t really have a word to reply to this, and simply leans back against the wall and nods.


	14. Chapter 14: The ground will eat you alive

“Just you, and me, Thomas,” In hindsight, this is not how Thomas thought his life would end; time slowing in a dodge of fire and anger with his Anxiety screaming and his logic hissing out commands in his ears, whilst sand washed against his lips and yellow eyes stared him down in a vicious duel. In fact, this is not how the man expected his day to go, in the dark of the night with the stars glowing as the only light on two people, a man, and a monster, lit by the actions of their fight.

When the creature had approached, a silhouette in the darkness with eyes glimmering in amber and gold, Thomas had startled; a creature beyond humanities saving, their mouth reveals needle-sharp teeth behind cracked and greying lips. Was this creature ever really human? It looked as if someone had drawn a dangerous caricature of a humanoid figure, but everything was just slightly off, like a bad photocopy. As Thomas swallowed his own saliva, the creature grinned without a hint of happiness instead full of anger, of hatred, of malice, he smiled.

Jack’s hands are already up and prepared, eyes bearing into the attacker, and then the creature speaks in a low growling voice that sounds like feet against gravel. “Just you and me Thomas, you win and no more creatures will attack you or your friends, I win, and you come with us,” Thomas can feel the blood in his ears pounding as ore silhouettes encircle them. Did he have a choice? Jack is shaking his head, blue eyes dark in the night and yet shining so bright with fear.

As the silent air rose and the waves calmly lapped against each other, one boy barely a man stands against an army, and he smiles. It’s small, it’s…relieved, and it’s terrified. One battle and it’s all over, one battle and this agony can end. If he lost, his choice is predetermined by fate. Once, Logan had told him of a theory known as ‘Determinism’; the idea that people did not have free will because every choice made had already been decided, that there was a path for them all…like fate. In situations like this, Thomas liked to think his choice does not matter because it’s not really his choice. Therefore he can’t really be blamed.

“Okay,” Jack shouts, anger all over his face mixed with a cocktail of fear. Nothing really matters this had already been decided. The creature stands in the center of a circle created by its minions, whilst one reaches forward and snatches Jack back into its rough claw-like nails. Thomas winces with an apology written all over his face to his best friend.

Jack is struggling, kicking his legs and dragging his feet into the dirt as the Dark Witches laughed at his attempt to escape their grasp; Thomas’ face was a picture of remorse, of sorrow as he looked between Jack and the thing he is supposed to fight, it’s golden flecked iris’ glowering in the darkness. He swallows and stands opposite it, the circle enlarges taking Jack with it in the process. Thomas stares death in the eye as in his mind there is chaos; the four sides of his soul trying to articulate the situation, Virgil might be screaming and the host does not blame him in the slightest. He really wants to scream right now too.

He doesn’t though.

His choice doesn’t matter.

He tells himself this over and over as his hands come up to protect himself under gale-force winds that are rising. Air, not easy and yet not hard to combat as he encases himself under an icy field that stems from his hands. He is safe for a moment until a heat pushes against his safety and causes it to crumble and melt. Like a flower in the scorching fires of California, he wilts and pressure drains his energy.

As his shield cracks, his pulls forward a burst of energy, his source being Roman, who is running around his mind trying to source all of the energy in his body directly to his anger. Patton, who is possibly shaking rather forcefully, is working on his memories. Anger had always served him well in these situations and right now he needed the best he could; it worked as flames broke through his own shield so forcefully that the ice exploded in different directions, forcing the creatures to shield themselves. The fire landed its target against the other creature, pushing their powers down.

It must have been five or ten minutes of the two fire elements pushing against each other firmly, dragging along the two of their tethers like a bead on a string. The two of them were shouting in pain, before extinguishing in a second. Thomas falls to his knees; he scratches his palms against the gravel floor and blood draws forward from the surface of his skin. He can hear the Witch cackling with firm force, it’s lip pulled into a sneer. He looks away, seeing the man is distracted in taunting and jeering, he lets the blood drip onto the floor.

Blood magic, a powerful form of magic very rarely use in witching community because it was seen as too gruesome or having bad consequences. Giving anyone or anything a drop of your blood was seen as taboo in witching spells; but Thomas doesn’t have the time to consider this as he allows the wind to soak into his skin and his blood to drop into the ground. Behind him, he can hear Jack gasping; he can imagine his face is torn between terror and impressed, one of Jack’s favorite expressions as he mutters under his breath “Earth,”

Under this city is a cavern much like a mortuary, plants that don’t need the sunlight or had died trying to find it create a labyrinth below the surface of the brick city. Thomas didn’t know he knew this until he called these plants from their graves as thick stems break through the surface at his command; a string of puppets woven together in terrifying form as they ensnared the witch. Thomas directs them with fluid yet furious movements, tugging and pulling at his enemy until the other finally finds their footing.

The High Witch receives no more than a few scratches, but he was at least slowing the other down as from the ashes of the figure of his old creation, he raises his hands to form a new idea. The ground reaches up and around Thomas, protecting him like armor made of trees. He flicks out his wrist and a thin vine, full with spikes and thorns lashes across the creatures face, he repeats the process except the tendril wraps around its neck, a fire has already started pouring from its hands but his own has already started building a small wall of ice in defense, sealing around the attacking vine as spikes form on the surface of his shield.

The ice spikes as sharp and hard as glass surge forward, pinning against the Dark Witches shoulder causing a shriek to emit from its cracked lips in agony. It pulls out one of them and hurls it up towards Thomas, but it simply bounces against the shield and cracks on the floor. The man is feeling adrenaline run through his veins as he realizes he is tiring the other creature, weary and in pain, out entirely. The brunet pulls back the shield and allows it to dissolve before another vine seems from his wrist, with a flick it’s tightening around the creature’s body. He watches it squirm and squeal, powerless before he’s planning his next move. This time was more difficult, watching the tree grow fiercely before it’s twisting up like a drill.

But the creature is gone. Thomas’ defenses lower, whipping round in shock. All of them have gone, they’ve run. Jack is panting on the floor, coughing on the air in his own lungs as he looks between Thomas and the empty beach. “What the fuck just happened?” He says, collapsing on the floor, eyes wide and full of terror.

The two of them look around for any sign of life, but there’s nothing, the entire landscape is empty “Come on,” Thomas says, holding out his hand for the other to take, “Let’s get out of here,” They run up the steps onto the streets and, exhausted, begin to walk southbound. “We need somewhere to rest for the night, they’ll be back for sure at some point,” The two head towards a hotel to rest for the night; Jack limping in and Thomas behind him; they must look a state to anyone else with dirt and sand clinging to them and blood drying on various scars and scratches they hadn’t even noticed they had.

The person behind the counter’s eyes grows very wide upon seeing the two, stuttering out the rooms available. Thomas dumps his wallet on the counter and says they’ll take whatever room is available with a rough and tired voice. A nod is received, money is taken and the keys are placed in the palm of his hand as he helps Jack up the stairs to their room.

Once inside the two collapse tiredly on the bed, sitting very still as the events of the past day start to sink in. “I need a shower,” The American mutters blankly, his face void of any emotion as he and his sides were too tired to find an emotion that suited this situation in the slightest. The water feels hot on his skin, burning through cuts and burns as he hisses and accepts the pain. The dirt washes down the drain, turning the water grey for a few seconds as it does so. The soap feels like a welcome embrace as the agony, stress, blood, and murk drains from his skin and he relaxes against the cold tile wall.

The brunet dries himself off, hugging the towel to his chest as he pulls on his underwear and enjoys the fact that there’s something more than pain touching his skin. He throws his dirty clothes on the floor in the bedroom with a sigh and collapses under the warmth of the quilt. Jack squeezes his hand for a moment before disappearing into the bathroom himself. Left alone with his thoughts, which is a dangerous plan, he thinks about the day, of Joan’s lifeless body, of Sophie’s tears, of the fire that raged incessantly inside his own anger and pain. He thinks about the bruised and broken figures of the people that had tried to protect him and he cries. The blame lingers on his shoulder like a weight that has only just decided to press down, breaking his shoulders and back with its burden. He closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing as tears collegiate on his eyelashes and dampen his cheeks, he inhales deeply and exhaled in a sob, hands coming up to his face to wipe the tears away.

Jack comes out, towel hanging off his shoulders onto his bare chest, wearing his jeans and worried expression. Upon seeing the other he drops the towel onto the floor and shimmies into the bed next to him, allowing the other to seek his comfort at his own pace.

They end the night with the two hugging, Thomas’ tears start to cease amongst Jack saying “It’s not your fault,” like he can read Thomas’ mind or thoughts. No, Jack just knew his friend and he knew how he would feel if he was in the other’s shoes, this entire situation fell heavily on his morality and Thomas’ morality had always been the driver of who he is.

Jack sleeps that night in a restless fashion, in his dreams he can hear screaming, see dark eyes flashing and blood running off his hands. The pieces of a puzzle that don’t quite make sense when he sees a glitch and his own face staring back at him, and he sits right up in bed. In a similar sense, Thomas also sleeps without comfort that night, in the darkness he can see an icy body and brown eyes blinking up at him, he can hear a voice that once loved him shouting blame at the young man. He sleeps with no comfort that night; neither of them do, restless in a world that had turned all their knives against them.

As the sun streams through the window, the two sit up, breathing heavily, with a pressure resting against their necks whilst air tried to force its way down their throats. Thomas presses his hand against his shoulder, remembers Dodie and all she had taught him, and through watery eyes, he smiles in a melancholy fashion. He’s still alive, and so is Jack.

–


	15. Chapter 15: Again?

The morning sun cracks over the horizon, gifting the world with its brightness and the realization that the entire city was torn to pieces. There were fires on the street being put out as the duo walk down the concrete jungle; some buildings had taken minor damage and the streets almost look to be a ghost town. Jack sighs heavily, burrowing his hands into his jacket pockets and keeping his eyes trained down on the concrete beneath his feet “Even more of a reason for humans to hate us,” He murmurs under his breath with a matching scowl. “If life couldn’t get any harder, it has now,”

“Now what?” Thomas asks “Where do we go and what do we do?” He knows no matter where he goes he puts those around him in danger, and he doesn’t want to face the consequence of those actions. Meaning he couldn’t go looking for Sophie and Joan and the others that had supported him over the last few months.

“We keep training,” Jack says with a low exhale “We do our best,” He pauses “There’s got to be a way still into that place, a way we can access the inside from the outside without the control panel, think about it, when it was built they still had to have a way to get in before they set up the control systems, but something that granted such easy access would always have had to have been kept under wraps,” Thomas does a double-take, looking up at him with wide eyes “Which means no one could have used it, in fear of it being found and accessed,”

“Jack you’re a genius,” He grins as the two change course towards the seafront again, the pace quickened and the beginnings of a triumphant and nervous smile on Thomas’ face. “We can keep training in there, and there should be enough food, those things will eventually be back, and we need to be prepared,”

The two of them sprint through the city, jumping over potholes and tumbling down to the beach like a hurricane made of two people. They step into the familiar surroundings and begin to search, through every crack in the rocks, under every plant. Plant. Thomas freezes “Plants shouldn’t be growing here,” He mutters “Below this there’s no dirt or mud or places the plants can make roots, judging by the height of ceilings in our rooms it should be impossible for there to be enough space between the ground and the ceiling of the cavern to grow,” He drops to his knees, his hands rummaging through the dirt, but it wasn’t dirt at all. His hands move further, pressing against the grooves of the fake earth, his mind calling up images of the control room. “On the far side of the wall there were pipes that ran down from the surface, tunneling oxygen, this, what we’re standing on here is where the oxygen was coming from, these aren’t flowers, they’re machines,” He traces his footsteps to the side where the pipes would have been. “And this, if I’m correct, is where someone would have had connected them to the surface, meaning...” He presses against a small metallic groove “Gotcha,” He pulls upwards, and the earth swings up with it, glued to a trapdoor.

Jack beams as the two slip through it, using the pipes to slide down to the ground, the door falling shut above them.

Now back inside, they take in the ghost town of an underground school. Thomas swallows as he moves through the rooms, following down past the spot where he’d seen his friend “Die,” and around the corridor he knew would lead him to his room. Once inside, he begins to pull things into a bag, collecting an emergency bag in case they would have to leave quickly. His plants were still alive, sustained by Jack’s pretend sun; he waters them despite the lack of knowledge on whether he’d have time to take them with him this time.

They move outside and down the corridor, trying not to look at the dead bodies around them “We should clear them up, put them in the sick room, cover them and stuff, maybe note down their names, out of respect,” Jack says solemnly, which the other agrees too.

It’s a test in a way as Thomas summons air to animate the bodies, hovering over themselves and trailing behind him. There are once again not as many fatalities as he’d expected, but still... too much. In a strange sense of déjà vu, he hears groaning and panicked breathing and leaves the bodies levitating as he starts towards the noise, heart thumping.

He almost wants to laugh when he sees Dan on the floor, looking disorientated bleeding from a forehead wound; he definitely wants to laugh when he sees Phil next to him, trying to bandage his own arm. At least two had survived. “Are you two just prone to getting yourself so injured people think you are dead?” He scolds, kneeling beside them. Another test.

He brings his hands to Phil’s arm first as he’s the most conscious and most obviously in pain, focusing his energy he concentrates on images of healing, relaxation and calls Logan to stand beside him. “It’s dislocated,” The logical side provides “You should be able to push it back into place,” Thomas looks at Phil, who simply nods dazedly, sinking in the warmth that Thomas was providing before the arm slides firmly and painfully back into place.

“Thank you,” The other mumbles, pushing his ebony hair from his eyes with a small smile “You seem to be doing pretty well of running around saving people,” Thomas smiles sadly before turning his attention to Dan, who is bleeding from a forehead wound.

“Likely to have a concussion,” Logan supplies, studying him, “You can heal him, if you recall, using the powers of Earth, you can also help him think much more clearly if you’re ready to push yourself,” Thomas nods and exhales slowly, concentrating again. If Dan had been more conscious he would say it felt like flowers were growing in his veins, opening up his lungs and removing fog from his senses. He smiles instead, and the wound on his forehead slowly closes up. Logan looks immeasurably proud, placing a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Well done Thomas,”

Jack comes hurrying in at this point, watching the end of the interaction with a wide smile “Who said you ever needed a teacher?” He chuckles, helping Phil to his feet as Thomas helps Dan stand. “You two are pretty tough, I mean you’ve not died yet and that’s saying something,” The two men grinned bashfully, despite being twice Thomas and Jack’s sizes, possibly combined, they looked very small and shy as they shuffled from one foot to another.

“What happened to everyone else?” Dan finally asks, combing his curls from his eyes and looking around, not a sound was heard except for echoing silence and the dripping of water.

“They’ve left, they must’ve thought you were both dead, but we came back because we’re sort of on the run, I’m apparently at the top of the hit list for some very bad and scary Witches,” Thomas explains with a sarcastic bitterness on his tongue “They want to use me for their games,” Jack looks solemnly over Thomas’ shoulder “Or they want to kill me, because if I’m not an asset to them then I’m an opposition,”

“We’re currently just clearing up the dead, putting them somewhere more laid to rest instead of just strewn in a corridor,” Jack explains in addition, he gestures back down the tunnels as he speaks “But, who knows, we may find more survivors if we keep looking,”

Dan nods firmly “We’ll help,” Thomas is already protesting, trying to clarify that he was absolutely a danger to be around but Dan only shrugs “I’m depressed anyway, if I don’t die here I’ll probably off myself somewhere else,” Phil shoves his shoulder but the younger is already laughing “I’m joking, mostly, I do just want to help though, I’m no safer out there with the government looking for me than I am here where there are food and shelter, at least for now,”

Phil nods in agreement “Dan’s right, we might as well stick together, at least not alone improves our chances of survival,” Jack gives a small smile to Thomas, who still hasn’t quite grasped the fact that he had people that cared about him in this tiny little underground world. “I’ll help you with the bodies, Dan and Jack can go and look for more survivors,”

As it turns out Phil’s specialty is Air, and he’s much more controlled and graceful with it than Thomas’ cluttered and shaky movements, gracefully pulling the bodies into a floating trail behind him as he went along to the corridors, before leading them into the hospital ward where he allowed them to rest in neat lines side by side. With a flick of his wrist the sheets from the bed lifted and gracefully draped themselves over the dead bodies, burying them in a sea of white. Thomas sighs, counting at least twenty bodies here, all dead because of him.

“It wasn’t just you that they were after,” The British born man comments “The first time they weren’t looking for you, they just wanted to cause destruction, you were only an added reason, they would’ve come back to attack either way, Thomas,” It’s like he can read his mind or maybe just the expression on his face. He must be a picture of guilt and self-loathing at this moment. The taller squeezes his shoulder “We should take all the first aid and extra blankets we can though, they’ll be helpful,”

The two pull all the first aid kits from the drawers and off the walls, piling them into a large bag with added plasters, bandages, oils and creams. Phil carries the bag whilst Thomas carries a stack of blankets. They meet Jack and Dan in the cavernous hall where life had been the center of the universe and behind them was…Dodie? She looked tired like she’d been asleep for two days or possibly hadn’t slept for two days; there were two ways that expression could go. But she’s delighted to see Thomas and Phil.

“I stayed here because I could tell there were other people still here,” She explained “Still alive, I could feel their heartbeats through the walls,” Was this an Earth thing, or a Dodie thing? Thomas didn’t have time to ask as she hugs him and looks up at Phil and Dan “I was right, I just couldn’t find you, and then I blacked out, it took me a day for my body to heal itself, and then I found Jack and Dan,”

“So now what?” Dan asks, following the content silence of Dodie’s excitement “Do we…run…are we going to have to fight again?” Thomas nods and looks around at the empty halls.

“We’re going to train and fight them because they will return, almost certainly for me, they destroyed half a city to try and kill me, but the moment I was winning they disappeared,” Dodie sits down on one of the worn down chairs, looking downcast as she fiddles with her hands. “So we’ll just have to keep training, if you want to stay here that is, I understand if you would rather leave,”

Phil shrugged and shook his head “I have wanted posters with my face plastered all over them, I wouldn’t last a minute out there with the government on my tail, neither would Dan, we’re wanted all over Europe and America,”

“What…what did you do for that to happen?” Thomas asks, slightly bemusedly. Dan snorts but has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed whilst the elder of the two sighs and leans against the table.   
“We killed some people,” He admits finally, and Thomas’ eyes flash with concern “Dan…Dan has a little sister, who told Dan that there was a man who did some not very nice things,” Dan scoffs as if to say Phil’s words were too nice and flowery for the things a monster made in the form of a man could do. “Dan killed him, he froze his blood and drowned him in his own saliva, and then he killed four other men who got away with similar things, I took the brunt of the blame so that Dan’s sister would not question him, but there were witnesses, and we fled the country, came here, wanted for five counts of murder,”

Thomas blinks slowly, eyebrows raised, he couldn’t imagine either of them in a position where they would make that choice, but if he’d had a sister he’s very sure he wouldn’t have a choice to make. That man would be very, very dead. He expresses this as a show of comfort, albeit still uncomfortable with how the air now settles around them. He thinks he would’ve done the same and now, killing was not a new experience to him. But killing a human was something he hoped he would never have to do.

“Shall we start training then?” Jack breaks the silence, hands digging into his pockets as he steps forward “Because there’s many monsters in the world and we’re going to have to fight them,” Thomas nods in agreement, standing up straight.

“Let’s get training, but first, I need to change out of these grimy clothes,”


	16. Chapter 16: Take a break

Training with Dan is a lot different from training with Jack, Dan has a very fluid form of movement, and he controls water like an extension of his entire body. Jack was and is a very strong fighter, he works off of his anger and it gives him the best control over his emotions, but his fighting technique is always to do first and think later.

The British boy, whose fingertips carve water from the Earth, has a deep respect for his craft. He doesn’t see water as a pet needing to be tamed, but as a part of his soul, an equal. Most Water specialists are the same in this respect; they’re very mellow, firm people with great control over what they do once they’ve trained. When you’ve got something as harsh and wild as fire at your fingertips, it’s a little harder to see the fire as more than an angry beast emerging from the darkest parts of your fury.

Dan brings water to his hands in a fluid motion; he turns it at his fingertips, shapes it into little creations and lets it float around his body. It hadn’t quite sunk in to Thomas just yet that this man had murdered more than one person, and it’s hard to see that watching him cross-legged with his eyes shut and a mirage of water creatures swimming around him. It’s one of the reasons the American really truly thinks that whoever those people were must have really pushed Dan past a breaking point of no return.

Then his eyes dart open and glow a mellow blue for a second, the water darts outwards like he had landed in a pool, thrashing outwards against the walls so hard a resounding crash echoed through the wall. If that had been a person, they would have been unlikely to have lived to tell the tale. The water turns to ice ad shatters on the ground, before dissolving.

Thomas is, to say the least, very impressed as Dan stands and braces his hands “Ready?” Thomas nods, preparing himself, he knows that the other won’t actively kill him, but his reflexes were certainly tuning in for the moment, heart thumping in his chest as Anxiety raises; thanks Virgil. The water pours towards him and the feeling of hot pressure worms immediately through his system, traveling along his bloodstream and then unleashing through the palms of his hands. 

The water meets a solid gale force, blowing back towards Dan, who tries to not to flinch as he is bathed head to toe in cold water. Thomas releases the wind force with a slightly amused expression and despite everything, Dan dissolves into laughter, pulling his damp curls from his eyes as Thomas apologizes. The American’s defenses down, he flicks his wrists and soaks the other playfully resulting in the two of them burst into laughter.

It had been a while since either of them had ever really laughed at all, but they did now, soaked in cold water and shivering ever so slightly. Thomas can’t breathe but for the first time in a few days it’s not out of pain or anger or Anxiety, he fills his body bubble with laughter over the simplest relief he’s had since he first left this place.

A blow of warm air following the opening of a door startles them, red-faced from laughter to face the amused faces of Phil and Jack, who are looking between them and shaking their head. Phil’s hands' ripple as the air around them distorts, producing warm air to dry them both out. “Honestly can’t leave you alone for a minute,” He chuckles, with a fond look in his eyes as he meet’s Dan’s gaze, who looks bashful.

Jack is smiling, it’s the first time Thomas has seen him really smile in a while, through a very tired expression albeit, but a smile nonetheless. He shakes his head and walks closer, “Honestly you two, I didn’t think a water fight would be on the to-do list,” But he’s not upset, there’s relief written in the code of his tone, he’s happy to see the two of them relax despite the entire situation. “Dodie’s made us some dinner, me and Phil have just finished piling all of our stuff into Thomas’ room, it’ll make it easier to access our things and it’s probably best we stay together as much as we can,”

The four of them trudge out of the room with various noises of agreement in regards to Jack’s statement. Heading towards the hall they remain quiet, falling back into a sober routine as the realization they were hunted people now, they were prey to the deadliest predator this Earth could offer. It was hard to smile now as reality set in.

They sat down at a table; Jack was balancing a fireball over his fingers as he eats, restless and jittery. Dan poured himself a glass of ice water from the palm of his hand, whilst Phil and Thomas simply look between them and eat as if they hadn’t tasted food in days. Thomas can’t actually recall when he’d last eaten, if it had been a day or two ago, a night or two ago. His stomach lurched halfway through his plate however and he rested the fork down to allow his body to adjust to its newfound nourishment.

Dodie is trying to smile, she had changed and showered somewhere between her own training and offering to make dinner whilst the boys had changed, Dan could barely stand the feeling of water on his wounds, and Phil had been too busy to entertain the thought, flicking through rooms to gather anything that could be helpful to them.

Dodie places a hand on Jack’s shoulder to try and ease up his shaking nerves and cease the clatter of his bouncing leg against the table. “So you two are both Manifestors right?” Dan finally asks, placing his fork back on his plate and taking a sip of his water “That must be loud,” Thomas chuckles in response and nods.

“They’re even arguing right now,” He supplies with a tired smirk, and he’s not lying. He can hear Logan and Roman shouting at each other through a string of curse words, he can’t hear Virgil but he can feel him in every blood vessel and nerve ending in his body, he can also hear Patton trying to subdue them, trying to calm them down, until it suddenly goes very quiet. “Patton?” He calls out and the other rises, hair a slight mess and face very flushed, with glasses askew and cardigan missing from around his shoulders. “What happened?”

“Oh I shut them up,” The moral side beams “I gave Virgil a fidget cube, Logan a Rubix cube and Roman a coloring book with crayons, just to calm them down for now, would you like to see them?” Thomas blinks slightly, more than impressed that his side had actually come up with a contingency plan for when the other three got out of hand.

“No, it’s okay, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Patton nods in response, indicating that everything was in fact okay “Thank you, Patton, you can go now,” his morality sinks down out view and Thomas turns back to the others. “He’s my morality, or my heart if you like, everything went quiet and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay and they hadn’t actually managed to kill each other, but turns out Patton has actually figured out ways to shut them up,”

Dan chuckles and Jack sighs, distracted, “I wish Chase had the brains to think of something like that, I think he finds it funny when they all start bickering, he especially enjoys laughing at…” He trails off “Never mind, it doesn’t matter,” He shovels a forkful of food into his mouth and Thomas recognizes the expression on his face, he was talking about Anti, but as Dan and Phil had never had the wondrous blessing off dealing with the egocentric and bloodthirsty glitch, he obviously did not want to discuss it in front of them.

“I think if I had sides, I’d constantly be giving my depression a lecture,” Dan chuckles, but it’s sad in the way the sound twists almost like a choked version of happiness for a moment. Thomas made a very brief note about using humor as a coping mechanism, and that he should probably ask Dan if he’s okay every now and then. A smile wasn’t always happiness and a joke in this context is very often a veil or mask for the truth.

“I’d be asking my Logic where he is,” Phil chuckles around a mouthful of food, trying not to laugh and choke as he’s eating his food. “Like excuse me, can you clog up those impulsive thoughts for me, I really don’t need to eat paper right now,” Thomas snorts and picks up his fork to try and eat some more food, his stomach seems to feel like it’s less under attack as he chews and swallows in a slow ritual.

“Believe me, having a Logical side does not prevent that,” Jack chimes in with a smile, Thomas exhales with relief through his nose, glad to see his friend now had something to take his mind off the worst of things. “The number of times Chase has been like ‘please don’t do that’ and I’ve just gone and done it anyway, it’s a surprise he doesn’t quit his job really,”

Dodie smiles at the four quietly, she wasn’t much of a talker, which was interesting given that her previous job had been counseling. Instead, she listens to them talk and feels her spirits lift just a little as the pieces of the men she’d known before travesty had struck started to come back, piece by piece, like a puzzle.


	17. Chapter 17: There's a storm brewing

The five of them were growing more and more powerful as they bounced their talents off of each other, working against and with each of their specialties. Phil had started to learn to control the diversion of Dan’s water, allowing the other to solely focus on the strength of the waves that would come billowing from the palms of his hands. The strength of these cascading waves were improving too, Dan had taken to testing the force against scraps of materials, splintering wood, caving in metal and shattering glass.

Phil and Jack also worked well together, as Phil’s gales fanned Jack’s unrelenting flames until they engulfed entire areas, propelling the flickering orange ribbons; alternatively he also could clear fire away from them all. Thomas would often bounce all of his powers in opposition, water with fire, fire with water, bringing firm and thick walls made from intertwining trees from nowhere in seconds to shield against air, and using air against all three.

They had taken to standing in a circle and randomly throwing out attacks to test their reflexes, to test their strengths and weaknesses. Between the five of them, they were becoming a force to be reckoned with even with each other. Dodie however, did not enjoy fighting, and if she did she was incredibly controlled and powerful but not one of her attacks ever aimed to kill, only to injure or stun.

Thomas was a mediator, he flicked between defense skills and attack skills, varying in intensity, but practicing against a broken dummy just to see and test his limits. When trying much more passionate attacks, he stays within a training cell on his own and pushing himself until he’s exhausted and aching and falling against the walls. Currently, the dummy was charred and damaged beyond repair but through his drained expression there is satisfaction written into a tired smile.

Phil was good at furthering other people’s skills, he could do a lot by himself but his strengths lay in his ability to partner with others, his skills adapted with each of the other’s, his ability to manipulate fire and water with his use of air made attacks much more damaging than they were alone.

Dan was a cautious type of predator, he tested the waters before choosing his attacks, enjoying wearing his opponent down with tricks and diversions before he truly attempts to force out the extent of what he can do. He would play the run around a little, especially when training with Jack, simply casually putting out fires like an arcade water squirt game until his opponent is tired. 

Jack, when training alone, was one of the most vicious attackers than any of them had ever gotten to watch. He was some kind of marvelous, impressive when training, the room warping under heat and pressure, diverting and directing attacks with pinpoint accuracy and burning entire rooms up with his energy. Right now, for example, as the four of them sip water and watch as he scorches the contained glass walls which had previously been labeled as indestructible, his eyes are piercing and darting from one marker to another, fire pours like a waterfall straight from Hell, rising and falling, moving in quick and sharp paths as sweat clung to Jack’s face and dampened his hair.

Thomas worries his friend may be overworking himself, whether this be through fear or an outlet for his anger, he was starting to see Jack disappear in front of his eyes and for lack of better phrasing, it was hurting his soul and morality to allow his friend to fall into the deep end. Fire specialists tend to be the quickest to lose their tempers, and having half of his life slaughtered in front of his eyes must have done some serious damage somewhere along the lines. It had damaged Thomas too.

After a long day of training, Jack had offered to make dinner. He had a very absent look in his eyes like he wasn’t really there at all, his focus never quite landing on anything. “Have you been sleeping?” Thomas asks tentatively, following the other into the kitchen “You don’t quite seem like yourself,” He thinks he sees a flash of darkness in Jack’s eyes and his stomach twists.

“I’m fine Thomas, thank you for your concern,” His voice sounds rough and hoarse, his movements are scattered and his hands are shaking. The other knew that his friend was lying through his teeth, because the man he was seeing was a haunted shell of the man he had met within the first few days in a place that would be his new home. He seals his lips shut, however, unsure if he even has a place or position to talk or ask or insist that Jack tells him the truth; perhaps there is no one but Jack that truly has that right.

“You…you really don’t look okay Jack,” He becomes hyper-aware of the sharp knife cutting into vegetables in Jack’s shaking hands. His heart thumps in his chest, he can hear Virgil insisting he takes the knife away from his friend, that he’s not safe, that Jack isn’t safe. He firmly places a hand on Jack’s wrist. “Put the knife down, now,” The Irishman looks up, and the American is expecting a flash of cerulean eyes but no he’s staring into a dark pit where a soul should be. He feels his stomach lurch, the knife clatters and Jack’s backing away, the azure seeping back into him.

The other man collapses against the wall, heaving sobs running through his body in slow waves. “I’m not okay,” He gasps out and relief wraps around Thomas at the confirmation and confession, causing him to kneel next to his friend and open his arms for a hug that is gladly accepted. “I’m really not doing okay, Thomas, I’m so angry all the time, it’s making it easier for him,” Thomas nods and rubs his back comfortingly.

“It’s okay Jack, I’m here, you need rest, you’re overworking yourself and it’s weakening your sense of morality because you’re feeding into your anger and fear so greatly,” It makes so much sense that Jack visibly relaxes and nods “You need to go to sleep, please, you need sleep and a day off training, maybe with Dodie, she’ll be better equipped to helping you than me,” He may be a powerful Manifestor, but he acknowledges that in their specialties, everyone around him was better than he was, they’d trained for much longer and had so much more studying than him. He didn’t truly think there was an Earth specialist in the entire solar system that was better than Dodie, who had mastered the art of terrifying and furious calm simultaneously. In essence, she is as terrifying as anyone around them in her powers, but the most gentle in that her soul and morality were so clean.

He helps Jack up and walks through the kitchen with him, leading down to their now shared space where everyone else was happily chatting. “Jack’s going to stay here and I’m going to make dinner guys,” The American announces with a gentle smile, and they all take in how pale his companion looks, with bags under his eyes and the sway of his body dictating he is very ready to fall unconscious.

Jack gets into bed and Thomas explains very quietly to Dodie that the other man is having issues with controlling darker elements of a corrupt morality, given the nature of his specialty. The British woman takes less than a second to help her friend, sitting next to him on the bed and pressing her fingertips to the brunet’s forehead, allowing serenity to wash over him like a wave. Thomas watches for a second as a weary smile passes over Jack’s lips and his body begins to unwind all the twists and turns and agonies that had been holding him locked in a cage of his own being.

Thomas returns to the kitchen to cut up some vegetables, throwing them in a pan before routing through the cupboards for something else to throw in there with them. He finds potatoes and instant gravy and decides that’s probably all they were getting out of today’s meal. As the water boils, his mind wanders and he thinks of the future when those creatures would be back; it had been two weeks since he’d seen a hide or hair of them. It was unnerving and the suspense was killing him as though he were being held off the edge of a cliff with a rope that was beginning to tether and half itself. The American wonders if he will really be able to bring himself back to land again, instead of balancing his feet on thin air.

In truth, his anxiety had been working so hard that anxious had become too normal for them and Virgil, now exhausted, barely had the energy to say things like “Hey watch where you’re putting that knife,” only ever spiking up in serious moments in dire need of a fight or flight reflex.

He begins to sort out the meal, lost in his dissociative thoughts until it’s ready to be dished. He covers Jack’s and puts in the fridge to heat up when he wanted it and carried the remaining four plates down the hallway to his friends. Dan and Phil are amidst a lazy discussion about nothing in particular as Dodie chips in every now and then, still focused predominantly on the sweet dreams and relaxation of her friends. The two conscious boys are happy to finish their conversation in order to shovel some food down their throats.

Dodie pulls away and places herself on the floor, accepting the warm plate of food with a thankful smile, happy to have some nourishment for what may be the first time today. The remaining four conscious people ate in silence with not truly much to say, except for the ‘thank you’s’ that had already been spoken.

Thomas keeps his eyes trained on Jack however, for the rest of the night, worried about his best friend.


	18. Chapter 18: Loverboy

A surprise comes in for the five of them on an otherwise unsuspecting morning. The sound of static fills the control rooms, and Jack is pushing buttons, unsure of when he actually learned to do this but Chase seems to know and is controlling his hands like a puppet. There are two people stood, waiting, looking around them with fear ingrained in their expression like a reflex, waiting to be let into the building. Everyone’s looking at Jack, whose hands are shaking over the control panel “Don’t do it,” He mutters, but the child in his heart is already pushing the button, his morality saw scared and afraid people and wanted them to be safe.

He cusses under his breath as the others scramble next to Jack, Thomas throws Jack a look of worry, unsure why he was losing control of his possession in terms of himself. The sounds of waves passing through the building grumble and crackle in mimic of a TV screen that could only play white noise. Suddenly, there are two bodies on the floor, the first had black and purple hair that was trimmed short in a masculine cut; they reminded Thomas distinctively of Virgil as they peer up through lined dark eyes and straight through the American’s soul. The second wore a pastel pink dress and blinked steadily through pale blue eyes before a smile dances on her lips. “Hello, I’m Lucia, this is Atticus,” Atticus groaned in response, rubbing the back of their head firmly. “He’s grumpy, we’ve done a lot of running to get here, or swimming, depending on how you look at it,” Her accent sounds distinctively British, or English and it takes a moment for the realization of her words to sink in.

“Wait, swim, here?” His lips part in shock, they both seem dry and okay and now he has many, many questions about the strangers they just let into their home and base “Why are you here?” He finally settles on one last question, reaching the daunting realization that complete strangers of which they had no idea of their intentions were stood before him in what is essentially his home.

“Well, we ran away, from home, to be here, at the safe house, but looking now, it looks like there’s probably something we’ve missed out on,” She stands and straightens out her dress, dusting herself off. “As for getting here it was simple, Atticus created an air bubble and I propelled us forward, no need for any complicated travel passes or waiting time, we were here in an hour, I think we may have broken the sound barrier along the way,”

“Broke my fuckin’ ribs that’s for sure,” His accent sounded different, the dialect was something similar to Jack’s and if he hadn’t been so used to Jack’s speech patterns he might’ve said this man was Irish. “I’m from Liverpool, she’s from Bristol, it’s a long story, do you have any food?” He’s wincing as he moved and it’s now Thomas notices the scratches and scrapes all over him, this man had seen some fighting before he’d come here.

“I think first you need a first aid room,” He says gently, taking a step towards the man, whose eyes flash a stormy purple and lips pull back to reveal bared teeth and a hiss of defense. “It’s okay,” Thomas holds his hands up “I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me too, but at least let me have a look, I don’t need to touch you to heal you,”

Perhaps it’s the American’s love of broken people, objects, maybe it’s Patton’s overbearing morality and need to help others, maybe it’s Logan’s reasoning saying he could be a useful attribute when patched up, maybe it’s Virgil’s worry for people not unlike himself. Mostly, however, he’s very sure it’s Roman gushing at the tall, dark and handsome man that’s leaning heavily into his own weight. He tells Roman, at least, to shut up so he can focus on leading the other.

“So as you’ll have noticed this place is kind of deserted, we’re mostly runaways if you like, we’re building up a team of sorts, trying to work on our strengths,” Thomas pauses as he opens the door to his room, where the supplies are all piled on top of one chest of drawers. “There was a bad battle here, many of us lost friends, family even, we don’t even know how many people made it out alive,” He gestures for Atticus to sit on the bed and sits down next to him, keeping his vow of not touching as he studies. “I’m not going to touch you, I’m just going to hover my fingers over the wounded areas, it’s a slower heal but these cuts don’t look too deep. He’s not sure it’s him talking, he knows he relaying Logan’s information, however.

He lets his fingertips linger over the scars on his face, eyes closed as he considers the healing spells and powers that float around his mind, he wants to patch the other up, take the stinging pain away, and take the scars away. Being careful not to touch the easily startled boy’s skin, he watches light flow from his fingertips in a way he’d never seen before and the cuts started to heal up slowly. Awe and relief brushed Atticus’ face, blinking gently through line eyes before a rush of air passes through his lungs and his hand gently touch his side. “My ribs…” He mutters gently “They really fuckin hurt, I think I’ve bruised them or something, I fell before and they’ve not felt right since,” He hesitantly pulls his jacket off and pulls his shirt over his head, eyes avoiding Thomas’. There are scars on his chest, that’s the first thing he notices, two long scars that still look to be healing underneath his pecs. The second thing he notices, quite bashfully, is that this man looks like he could have been carved from Greek Architecture and then place at the entrance to a palace.

That’s to say he has a nice body.

Thomas turns his attention to the ribs, looking up hesitantly to ask if he can touch, once gaining Atticus’ consent he gently presses against the ribs, and listen to Logan’s feedback as he survey’s through his own eyes. “Okay, I should be able to do this, your ribs have sort of become slightly uh…detached, from where they’re supposed to be can you raise your arms above your head?” Atticus does as he is instructed and Thomas closes his eyes, focusing on the bone structure of a human body as Logan conjures up the image for him. For a moment he thinks he can see under Atticus’ skin until there’s the sound of relief floating past his friend’s lips. “Better?” Atticus gives a quiet nod, a small smile gracing his expression as he pulls his shirt back on. The American knows he’s should look away from the scars on the other’s chest, he only really knows of two reasons why someone would have those sort of scars on them. He doesn’t want to ask, really it would be rude, and they’ve only just met.

But the other man seems to want to confirm Thomas’ flushed face of questions “I’m transgender,” He says gently, “That’s what the scars are,” The brunet nods in response, he’d known but it would have felt impolite to ask, he’d met a few transgender people in his lifetime and this wasn’t a new experience for him, he just hoped that everyone could be accepting of Atticus should it also be revealed to them. “Thanks for not like, immediately interrogating me about them though, I get really tired when people start asking me a million questions, honestly, makes me want to curl up in a corner and panic or cry, or both if it’s a good day,” There’s dry sarcasm in his tone, something the other, also becoming more humorously cynical, could appreciate.

“I wouldn’t like to be interrogated on my life,” He shrugs and stands, stretching his own back “Would you like some food now that you’re all patched up?” Atticus nods, moving his violet and black hair out of his sharp eyes and following Thomas towards the hall “To catch you up to speed a little, I mentioned there was a big battle here, well the longer you stay here the more danger you’re in if you want to leave you can at any time,”

“Our safety out there isn’t a guarantee either,” The younger shrugs, his hands digging into his pockets “We’ll probably starve to death, get caught and slaughtered, or kill ourselves, and hey I’m starting to like you a bit,” His humor reminds Thomas distinctively of Jack, making as many jokes as possible so maybe no one will actually notice that there’s worry written all into the code of his voice, melding with his DNA. “We’re too tired to go anywhere else today anyway,” He finished on as they walk into the open hall to see the others.

Lucia was talking animatedly with Dan, who was blinking several times over in desperate attempt to digest any of the words she is saying, whilst Dodie was talking with Jack and Phil, occasionally the three would spare amused glances at the British man’s face of sheer bewilderment as the newcomer attempted to talk to him. “Yeah she has that effect, makes everyone else in the room feel just a little bit dumber,” Atticus comments with bemusement before seating opposite the others, Thomas took the seat next to him.

They began to eat their food, Thomas and Jack exchanging glances over their food, worried about their apparent new friends’ safety and if they would make the morning.


	19. Chapter 19: Boy with dark eyes and a sad smile

The next day, Jack and Thomas had to have a discussion about two things. Dan, Phil, Dodie, Atticus, and Lucia went to do some joint training together and left the two alone in Thomas’ room. The first question came straight out of Thomas’ mouth the moment the two were alone “Jack, what’s happening?” It is of course in reference to the lack of control the other was displaying in terms of the possession of his body. His job as the host was becoming impaired as the others were finding it easier to slip in and out of control. “You really don’t look well at all, you look exhausted, and pale and sick Jack,” There’s worry written in the color of his eyes and the lines of his face as his eyebrows draw together in confusion, in all honestly it sort of breaks Jack’s heart to see his friend so upset and worried about him.

“I don’t know,” He admits quietly, his arms fold across his chest and he can feel the pounding of his own heart as if it were trying to break from the confinements of his chest, his hands shake whilst he feels the turn of the blood in his veins. When did he start to feel so cold? He wonders absently, drawing his eyebrows together, his mouth suddenly feels so dry, when was the last time he had a drink of any kind? Had it been yesterday or the day before? The image of his own body drying up from the inside flashes across his mind and he inhales as sharp as the wind against tall cliff faces. “I think he’s making me ill,” Is what finally comes across his lips in a heavy observation of a terrifying conclusion “It’s like he’s trying to rewire my brain, make it hard for me to remember to look after myself, it’s making me ill,”

Thomas has a solemn expression on his face, like a widow at a funeral, his lips press into a firm line as he vividly sees his own friend’s body unraveling itself in front of him, with only decay left inside a weak and frail body. A shaky breath escapes him and he shakes his head firmly, banishing the thought and vision far away from the forefront of his panicked mind. “Let’s get you some food and drink, Jack, we’ll keep you afloat until you’re strong enough again,” Weakly, the pale man gives a gentle and thankful smile, before moving to pull the other into a hug. Even now Thomas can see evidence of the other slipping away as his grip is no longer firm and wrapped in the strength of love, but tired, weak, the shake of his trembling muscles can be felt straight through Thomas’ bones straight to his breaking heart.

He helps the Irish man to the main hall, where he sits him down and pours him a glass of orange juice that’s looking very lonely in an almost empty fridge. He scrambles to find some food, settling on a tin of beans and some toast which will generally be quite easy on Jack’s stomach. The seconds tick by as he waits for the toast to spring out, placing it on the plate before the timer on the microwave, which suddenly seemed agonizingly slow, pinged to let the other know it was ready to be taken out. He wraps the bowl in a towel and carries it with the toast on a plate with a fork resting precariously on top. “Here you go buddy,” In the light of the cavernous hall, Jack looked even paler and thinner and Thomas distantly wonders how he’d gotten to this point without any of them noticing. A terrible friend is an understatement to how he was currently feeling about himself, but this isn’t about him this is about making his friend stronger again so he’s not vulnerable to attack; from the inside of himself and outside factors.

As Thomas waits for Jack to eat, patiently watching as each shaky forkful of food makes its way to his mouth; he feels his heart sink ever so slightly. If Jack can’t get well, what would the consequences be? Would he even be himself, or would his sides constantly have to animate what essentially a dead man is walking? A shudder runs through his body and he has to swallow down his fear in order to give Jack an encouraging smile, nodding towards the food in a question that his lips are suddenly too shaky to formulate. Jack smiles and nods, his eyes look a little less tired and with each mouthful of food takes away a little more of his slouch and exhausted body stance; a sigh of relief passes Thomas’ lips as the other begins to get into the rhythm of eating his food, taking sips of his drink more and more. He was going to get better.

It’s as Jack finishes his food that the other start to pile in, wondering where the two of them were, Dan and Phil were jesting with each other, giving light shoves and encompassed in their own little world. Thomas admired the two of them; they were the closest friends that he’d ever seen in his life, almost like brothers. It’s not like he entertained the question of whether they were in a relationship or not, he hadn’t asked because it felt like prying, but every now and then the question crosses his mind.

Dodie was smiling at the two of them, with Lucia all but floating by her side with her fluid movements. This woman never seemed to falter, or trip, or stumble, another thing that Thomas greatly admired considering that he couldn’t walk in a straight line without tripping over thin air or his feet. Behind them all, looking quiet and reserved, and absolutely beautiful, is Atticus.

Thomas doesn’t think he’ll get used to the way this man scowls at everyone else, his dark eyes focused and quiet. His lips fixed firmly in a straight line until his teeth sink in gently to his lip. His arms were permanently fixed across his chest like it was a habit he has formed. With more time to actually take in the other’s appearance, he acknowledges that without his hair styled the messy cut of brown and violet falls distinctively into hazel eyes. The pale expanse of skin that dips up beyond the cut of his large black jumper almost reflects the light. He looks almost as pale as Jack currently does. Maybe it’s a UK thing.

“Anyone else want some breakfast?” Thomas asks as they approach in a group, Dodie sits next to Jack with a worried expression and presses a calming hand to his shoulder. The man smiles gently in thanks, continuing his new routine of eating food.

“Yes fucking please,” Dan groans and flops down in a chair, his brown curls tumbling over his forehead with the same exaggerated bounce as his current statement. “I couldn’t be more hungry if I tried,” Phil shakes his head next to him muttering something that sounds like ‘don’t swear’ and ‘drama queen’. Thomas, suddenly very aware of his friend’s safety and invested in their care, not wanting any of them to become like Jack, immediately sets off towards the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” Comes the soft and yet gravelly voice of Atticus, who hasn’t even sat down in the first place as his slender legs carry him towards Thomas. Thomas doesn’t want to say he’s blushing, and if anyone else says he’s blushing they’re a dirty liar (He’s definitely blushing that a handsome man is currently coming to his aid to prepare the impossible task of making food for a growing group of people).

He could say he’s especially taken to Atticus, not just because he’s very attractive although that definitely helps, but because of how he is. He’s quiet, thoughtful, snappy and yet extremely kind; he feels like a very real person, with a complex personality and every time he looks at Thomas the other man just wants to dive deeper and deeper into his eyes. They were very, very nice eyes.

Thomas loves Jack to bits, he’s become like a brother, a best friend and teacher in his life amidst a time where he needed all three of those things. Right now, he’s very scared for his friend’s safety and perhaps much like Jack came along in a time where he needed support, Atticus quite literally fell straight into his life when he needed some more. Now that’s not to say that Atticus has to follow some kind of destiny that the other man has set up in his mind, but much like Thomas, Atticus seemed to enjoy helping people (As proven now as they begin sorting out morning breakfast for everyone else).

And if Thomas could read the indigo haired man’s mind right now, he would know that the other man most definitely wanted to help. The two of them loved fixing people, perhaps much more than they enjoyed fixing themselves; and both Lucia and Atticus had fallen straight into some sort of broken, scared family and more than anything they wanted to fight to help people who, despite vanishing resources and a penchant for attracting danger, wanted to help them both.

As the plates of food started to pile up, they were carried out towards the others, Dan immediately dug into his food, throwing it down his gullet forkful after forkful until Phil had to physically tell him to slow down before he either choked or made himself sick. Atticus, for the first time since he’d got there, nursing his own portion of beans and toast, laughed. Thomas’ heart jumped. He felt his pulse heighten and he felt a smile grace his lips, he looked over at the other man, whose smile was trying to be pulled down away from his face and failing miserably. Phil chuckled in response whilst Dan pouted but slowed down his eating.

Lucia, who was looking at her friend with a warm and sisterly smile, squeezed his hand gently as if the sound of his laughter was a comfort to her. She whispers in his ear and the man with purple highlights looks down at his food with a gentle smile; Thomas thinks distantly that this is probably not the time for him to become distracted as he takes in the other man’s appearance, the diversion from his sullen expression, but if his life is short he may as well chase a fantasy.

See, Thomas had never truly had a relationship, he’d fallen in and out of affairs and people’s hearts, but he’d never stayed with anyone and never really thought he would. People like him, he thought, were not people who got to achieve the normality and comfort of a warm relationship, but until now he’d assumed he’d never meet someone else like him. His powers were not something he’d have to hide with another Witch.

The thoughts dissipate as fast as they come as people started to finish up their food. “I’ll do the dishes,” Dan offers, having not so far participated in the domestic tasks such as cleaning or cooking, everyone else worried he would not have the coordination or attention span for it, but no one else really wanted to do the dishes either.

“I’ll help,” Attached at the hip, it was becoming rarer and rarer to see Dan without Phil, and this is likely because if tragedy were to strike, the two of them would want more than anything to be together. Thomas first recalls the time he’d helped Dan and the sheer fear in his eyes and how it all seemed to disappear the moment that Phil, frantic and full of relief once he saw his friend, had appeared. The two of them were the only comfort they had in an otherwise uncaring world. 

“I’m going to go to sleep,” Jack says gently, his eyes still very tired “I need to rest,” Thomas agrees with him, proud his friend was taking his own health and wellbeing into consideration. Jack stands, a little more firmly than he had before he’d started eating and disappears down the hallway, with the remaining four watching after him.

“I’m going to train Lucia today; she’s an Earth and water specialist so I think I can help her more with the Earth side of things if that’s okay Thomas?” Thomas falters for a second, knowing this would leave him alone with Atticus, which should not cause such unrest in him as it did. He nods with a small smile, looking at the other man, who nods also.

“Did you have a good rest?” Thomas asks as he stands up from the table, with the smaller man following behind him, he got a shrug in response, and upon close inspection noticed there were bags under his eyelids. “I’ll take that as a no then, you can go and sleep if you want too, you know, you don’t have to stay here with me,”

“It’s okay, I’m unlikely to sleep anyway,” The smallest smile graces his lips and Thomas nods in understanding, sleeping hadn’t been as easy as it should’ve been his first night here and that had been under much more comfortable circumstances. “So what’s your specialty?” the taller chuckled slightly in response, but there’s a tired look on his face as he launches into an explanation of something, he’d been asked many times before.

“All four elements are my specialty, and I’m also a Manifestor,” There’s a confused look on Atticus’ face, questioning him what that word means, it’s the first time he’d seen that expression and relief washes over him. When he’d previously said those words to other people, there was an overbearing amount of excitement and gushing that made his skin feel tight, itchy and uncomfortable. “A Manifestor is someone who can manifest different facets of their personality into real people, which means it gets a little tied up in my head because they’re always arguing, but I can also call on them for specific situations, I’ll show you,” They head up into the training rooms and Atticus stands calmly by the side, eyes full of curiosity. “Logan,”

Atticus jumps, it’s his first reaction as a second version of the man in front of him appears, hair neatly tidied back out of his face, with a shirt tucked into a pair of slacks and a tie fastened neatly around his neck. “This is my logical side, but his name is Logan, he does all the analytical things, contains all my knowledge and is imperative in my day to day decision making,” A smug smile tugs at Logan’s lips and he adjusts his glasses. “Roman,” Atticus’ eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline as another side pops into existence, with neatly styled hair and wearing what could only be described as a prince’s get up from a stage production, complete with a sword that is holstered In a belt. “This is my creativity, Roman, he’s the best to consult whilst fighting, because he understands battle quite well, he’s also my passion, which makes him useful for fire control, and he’s the romantic side,” The grin Roman gives has Thomas giving him a firm look. 

“Patton,” There’s a look of wonder starting to form on the dark-eyed man’s face, taking in all this new information “This is my moral side, he’s a little…ditsy, let’s say, but he’s really my heart and helps me with moral decision making,” This man, wearing a blue polo shirt and jeans with a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders, beams at Atticus, waving with exaggerated happiness. “And lastly, Virgil,” There’s a moment where it takes the only other physically real human in the room to adjust to this last one who had none of the happy air that the other’s, for a moment Atticus may have seen himself in the last one “My Anxiety, my fight or flight reflexes, he gives me my drive during fighting and tells me when running away is a good idea,”

Atticus can’t help it, he steps closer to this one, who flinches and takes a step back, he can almost see the way the cogs turn in his head, through a mess of purple hair and heavily lined eyes, he could see himself. “Me too,” He mutters and the other’s eyes widened “It must be really hard to be you,” Virgil’s gaze softens and he looks down at his hands, fumbling with his own touch before he meets the man’s eyes “Sorry, if I’m making you anxious I just, understand,” Despite everything and the situation the anxious side had been thrown into, his shoulders relax and he smiles. “It can’t be easy to be you,”

Patton smiles over at the two of them, before meeting Thomas’ gaze, almost giggling at the lovesick smile on his face. Roman is bouncing on the balls of his feet, no one in the history of Thomas’ entire life has ever been able to make Virgil relax, except for Dodie and Thomas himself; but Dodie used her powers to relax Virgil. All Atticus had to do was talk. Thomas can feel their excitement through his mind, even Logan looked vaguely impressed and he was never impressed by anything except himself. And if he was impressed he certainly doesn’t say it or show it.

Thomas watches as the two interact, his heart flutters when Virgil finally replies “Yeah, it is,” It was nice to see Virgil comfortable and relaxing around someone else, comfort was not his strong point.

It clicks in his head, then, that he’d finally met someone who completely relaxes his Anxiety. Relief passes over his lips in a gentle sigh, hiding the small smile that graces his lips.


	20. Chapter 20: Softer gazes as a hurricane brews

By the time the next 24 hours had progressed, or at least they assumed as they can’t actually see the sun, Jack was already looking much healthier; he’d eaten two portions of food yesterday and Thomas had popped in to give him a glass of juice or water when needed, then he’d slept for a few hours during the day, and all of the night. His eyes looked a little brighter and his body looked more animated and energetic than it had previously, his words are no longer heavy in his mouth. 

Atticus and Lucia are starting to look just a little bit more comfortable as they settle between the enigmatic group of friends; Lucia and Dodie were getting along well, both having Earth elements as a part of themselves as well as them both having a very specific approach to battle. Lucia, much like Dodie, was more for stun and injure over killing, she preferred to leave that to the others. It’s not that she’s not capable, but having studied Moral Philosophy for most of her life, she believed that killing was not an option for her. Which the others respected, it was their choice and not for anyone else to interfere.

Thomas and Atticus had also enjoyed training together, after the heart-warming introduction to his sides; the two had trained for hours together, using air against and with each of the elements that the elder man controlled. The newcomer was not a weak fighter, he was fast and energetic despite the pause he took to light a cigarette which had come as a surprise. With a slightly coy smile, the man had held out a cigarette and asked Thomas if he had a light, to which the other man had smiled, clicked his fingers and produced the smallest flame for the other to inhale.

There was a small second where their eyes had connected, the closeness seeming to radiate between the two as the smoke poured off of Atticus’ very full lips. This man was going to kill him before any monster gets there, either his heart would give out or he’d choke on his own air. Even though once he’d come to his senses he had lightly scolded Atticus on his smoking habits. 

Now, the two of them sat together at breakfast, with Jack on Thomas’ other side whilst they all chatted, Atticus was still rather quiet in the group despite the speed in which he’d relaxed around the American man, eating his food and making occasional comments. He catches the other’s eyes and gives a small smile, causing a blush to rise on the brunet’s cheeks. Throughout they exchanged glances and smiles and it did not go unnoticed by Jack who smiles gently at the two of them. He was happy to see the other have some company, and more than happy to see the blushes coating their faces as they interacted.

He very much hopes the two of them will find happiness in each other, because the chemistry seemed to be there at least; despite Atticus having only been here two days, they had seemed to completely relax into each other’s company. For Thomas, the Irishman knows relaxing immediately to a new person was something very difficult for him to do. He just hopes the two of them survive whatever attack they will face.

Jack observes the two of them during training, still trying to get all of his strength back, he’s definitely observing more than their training techniques though. Absently, he notes he’s never really seen Thomas so animated during training, his emotions all over his face from smiles to concentration to laughter. He works against and with the other man’s attacks and enjoys every second of it. Jack smiles and leans against the wall, knees tucked to his chest as he nurses a cup of tea. These two were definitely going to go somewhere together, whether they realised it yet or not.

When the two take a break and Atticus pulls a cigarette between his teeth, he keeps a distance from the two of them at first, knowing Jack was still ill and not wanting to coat him in cigarette smoke. As Thomas lights it for him, Jack grins, trying not to physically squeal at the domestic scene. “I don’t mind the smoke,” He finally says, “Just blow it away from me but you don’t have to sit on the other side of the room,” Atticus nods and gives a gentle smile before moving closer. The three of them talk about their lives thus far; allowing each other to become more open and friendly; this group of people could be their life for who knows how long, maybe the rest of their lives.

Jack mentions that he’d been in a relationship before he’d come here, and that he’d lived here for a couple of years now, something that Thomas hadn’t known. “She was lovely,” He says softly, his eyes looking down at his hands “But she didn’t want anything to do with me once she realized… she turned me in in the end, she was lovely really, but scared, and I don’t blame her,” Thomas’ hand squeezes his shoulder comfortingly “But I don’t think it would have lasted anyway, I don’t think love is really my thing, not right now anyway, I need to be able to…work on myself, alone, before I think about bringing someone else into my very eclectic life,” Thomas nods, offering comfort as well as he could. Jack leans his head on Thomas’ shoulder and sighs, wondering what his life would’ve been like if things had been different, if he had been normal. That idea, that life he so wished for only brought tears to his eyes, as he screws them shut and pretends that the thoughts don’t exist for a little while. 

Doesn’t everyone who is different every now and then feel the fury for it? Living in fear all the time never did anyone good, hiding half of yourself constantly and running away from the world into ‘what if’s’ or...even books, perhaps.


	21. Chapter 21: Human

Atticus is the last out of bed today, a week after he’s become a permanent resident within the group of friends, and Thomas is still in the room whilst typing away furiously on a laptop. The others had gone to eat and start training, leaving Jack in the capable hands of Dan, Phil, Dodie and Lucia to make sure he doesn’t overwork or strain himself again. Thomas had offered to stay behind to make sure the other didn’t wake up to a panic of being alone in a room that is still mildly unfamiliar too him, but for the most part it’s just so he can spend more time with the other man alone.

As he comes too in a mess of brown and purple hair, and blinking tired eyes, Atticus yawns and stretches, looking blearily at his friend before speaking with a husky morning voice “Good morning,”. Thomas looks up and beams at him, unable for a moment to respond at the adorable sight of the waking man, whose shirt is hanging loosely of his collarbones. He came here with next to nothing and had graciously accepted Thomas’ offer of…all his clothes. And he looked good in them.

Very good indeed.

“What are you writing?” The smaller boy stands, making his way over to Thomas and sitting next to him, their arms brushing against each other’s as he peers over his friend’s shoulder curiously. “A letter?” Thomas nods and moves the laptop over for the other man to read “A letter to the world, should you find this…” he trails off and blinks slowly, swallowing on his own air “It means that the writer of this letter is dead,” He pauses and shifts closer to the typist as he feels his jaw clench in his skull. “There has been a war going on for many years now, and we all have had our casualties, if we don’t end it then this war may never end, putting Witches and Humans alike in danger, it is with utmost importance that I stress that Humans and Witches need co-ally in this war, or the entire Earth could be at stake,” Atticus pauses and looks at Thomas, he can see the fear radiating in his eyes like a beacon of light stuttering in the fog. “There’s no more room for war between us, there’s no more room for hatred between us, we want to help you, we want to protect you but we can’t if you keep hanging us,” The younger man chokes on the words like a noose is tightening around his neck and perhaps it’s the realization that so many people like him have been killed for less and somehow he is still hanging on, or maybe it’s the idea of Thomas, so full of life and leadership, could see the same fate. “Signed, sincerely, the runaways under a Floridian beach,” Atticus looks away from the screen to his hands, catching the air between his lungs and his throat. “It’s good, it’s a good idea,”

Thomas senses his discomfort and closes the laptop, placing it on the bed as an arm comes around the other “You’re scared,” he states, an observation and not in the slightest offering room for negotiation, he can feel Atticus’ fear like it’s his own. He presses a gentle squeeze to the younger man’s arm and allows him to sink against him. “It’s okay to be scared, we’re all terrified, especially me,”

“It’s just, these people here, no matter what we’re really and truly going to die, none of us can take on those…things you told me about, not alone or together, it’s a fruitless effort,” The dark eyes are wide and soft underneath the ruffled tuft of colored hair and a cold hand squeezes Thomas’, seeking comfort “I might have a day or a week left to live, and I have no way of knowing, none of us do, I think it’s only just sinking in,”

“You can leave, if you want, there’s nothing holding you here like there is holding us, most of us are hunted now, except for Dodie and Jack,” But there’s a small, melancholy smile on Atticus’ lips that makes his heart want to stop beating and his hands to hold him as close as he can.

“And why do they stay, Thomas? Despite everything?” The air sounds like static and tastes like words that shouldn’t be spoken and realization curtains like a final call on a stage, his tongue darts out over suddenly dry lips, and with a slow blink of hazel eyes, Thomas looks away. Friendship will truly kill his friends, loyalty, love, the need to protect each other it was so human despite everything they’d been through. They were all still so very human.

“Because Jack doesn’t want to die alone, he’s scared of me dying alone, he’s scared that the closest thing he’s ever had to a proper family will disappear and he will have to find his way through the world without me or us, and that terrifies him,” He pauses, tears welling up in his eyes “And Dodie always wants to help and heal people, she wants the certainty of whether we’re okay and whether we’re not even if that comes at the cost of her life,” Atticus takes Thomas’ hand in his own and their fingers intertwine “And you and Lucia? I don’t know why you two stay here because you’ve only known us a week and you know the price that comes with staying here and…” he trails off, tears brimming in his eyes

“Because me and Lucia have never been loved by anyone but each other,” The other man fills in softly “And without knowing us or even thinking you took us in, gave us food, shelter, love, and made us feel like we had a family, no one in our entire lives has ever cared for us but you and those guys did, and now we know that if this is our community and you are our people, then we will fight with you and die with you because we have nothing else to lose anymore, we’re both reaching the ends of our tethers with being alive,” His hand comes up to Thomas’ face “And it helps that you’re pretty, and we’re just sitting in the waiting room for our last appointment with death and you have no idea how much I just want to kiss you and be happy one more time,”

Thomas’ eyes are blinking furiously, his hand coming up to place over the younger man’s, heart pounding in his chest as he registers every word like it’s a prayer. “Then do it,” and he does, he kisses Thomas like his life depends on it like the only source of life comes from between the other man’s lungs and lips. His hands are a tangled knot of ‘maybe’ and ‘love me’ as they move up and down the other’s arms, legs tangling and feet brushing against each other until he’s right in the other man’s lap. It’s not sexual, but he’s never wanted to feel closer to anyone in his life, a desire to climb inside Thomas’ heart and live there for the short amount of time they have left to see the world. They’re dying. They’re ticking time bombs on God’s short calendar and the due date is approaching faster and faster with every second that passes. Those seconds transfer from Thomas’ lungs straight into Atticus’ ventilation. The world is on its death bed, and the hounds of hell are approaching so fast but right now, right here, nothing matters but the gentle and a desperate touch of two boys who couldn’t know love if they tried.

Or perhaps they do, perhaps they will if they ever survive this.

They pull away with a gentle brush of their lips, finger tips interlaced as Atticus’ hand cups Thomas’ face, enjoying the moment of silence and air before an interruption disturbs them. “I…just came to see if you guys wanted breakfast, but it seems you’re already pretty busy devouring each other’s faces,” Jack stands in the doorway, a wide smile on his face and a laugh bubbling at his throat. “We made eggs and stuff, they’re uh…Dan style eggs so I can’t guarantee the edibility, but there’s some left if you want some,” Thomas buries his face in his friend’s(?) chest and flushes bright red, whilst Atticus himself looked rather like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“Yeah, we’ll come,” The younger finally says hoarsely, “I really am quite hungry,” He climbs off of Thomas’ lap with a shy smile, holding out his hand to help up the other, only for him to take it and intertwine their fingers with a light in his eyes that Jack hadn’t seen in so long. Finally, he had some good news for them all to admire with some level of jealousy and wholehearted admiration for their friends.

Jack leads in front of them as the two walk hand in hand towards the cafeteria, a certain bounce in their step as they headed down the long passageways. Secretly, they exchanged smiles and looks in a language that only the two of them seemed to suddenly understand, a language where shyness and raised eyebrows is “are you okay?” and a universal nod is met in silence. Jack glanced back at the two with a smile, despite the fear weighing on his heart, he was happy the two had each other for now, no matter if this would ever be shattered, he wanted his friends to be as happy as they can for as long as they can. He most certainly would not intervene despite his concerns, and he was sure no one else would either. Dan and Phil were so close that if they got any closer they’d become either boyfriends or conjoined twins and nobody could really see where that was heading so it could end up in either direction. Dodie was a soft-spoken person who wanted only happiness for her friends, and Lucia had known Atticus before them so it was surely something he had divulged in her confidence.

He looks at the two of them once more before they enter the hall, and sadly notices their hands slide apart. Nevertheless, Jack understood they needed more time to adjust to the situation before announcing it to everyone; he would, however, try and arrange everyone so the two could spend more time together. Love was precious and rare for people like them, love required an understanding that was hard for them to explain, it required a connection and trust that non-Witches could not quite comprehend. And finding another Witch that reasoned well with your own abilities and elements was a venture both tried and failed by many.

So Jack remains silent as the two who are now more cheerful than ever dig into their food. He knew one day he would have to have a conversation with Thomas, he knew he has to make sure the other was aware, no matter how painful that it may be for all of them, that there may be a time where the two were separated by lives lost. It hurt his heart even to think about it and decides today, nor was tomorrow, or the day after held a time for the conversation.

\--

Phil does the dishes today and Dan pretends to do them as he sits on the kitchen counter whilst everyone else pretends they don’t know he’s not doing the dishes or being remotely helpful to his best friend. Dan was a very light-hearted person, easily startled and easily frightened but overall made darkness his humor; whether this is to hide the fact he’s deeply terrified of both his own mind and everything coming towards them, or just to cheer people up, no-one except Phil could know.

Jack trains with Dodie and Lucia today, to help Lucia get used to the idea of multiple contacts, opponents, and partners during a battle, or at least that’s what he says it for as he and Thomas exchange secret smiles.

Atticus and Thomas train together, but it mostly ends in little kisses and quiet giggles scattered throughout their usage of their powers. This, whatever it was, felt just as magical, caught in the only honeymoon phase they’re likely to ever have, it makes terror melt away in exchanges of air throughout each other’s lungs and fire reaching the end of a cigarette. They’re completely wrapped up in this, this moment now, letting the future turn to static in front of their eyes.

It’s perhaps the only wonderful feeling they’ve felt in a long, long time.


	22. Chapter 22: Hello my old heart

Atticus and Thomas were growing closer by the day and it was not going amiss from the others who observed the two together; except for perhaps Dan, who was most of the time too busy staring at Phil like he was the sun, the earth, the moon and the stars incarnate in one very directionally challenged young man. That and he were oblivious to almost everything and everyone. Everyone else, however, had perfectly good skills in perception and were able to quickly tell the two were enjoying each other’s company in a more romantic way.

They would often work together and the assumption had been that Thomas wished to train Atticus because their skills work well together; however, it’s the little smiles they share and the lingering looks of complete hopeless romance, the subtle hand touches and the fact that they catch them kissing against a wall that really seals the idea planted in their own minds.

It takes the kissing part for Dan to catch on in case you’re wondering and he’s the only one looking absolutely gobsmacked and surprised, hardly able to comprehend the situation. Phil’s half laughing at Dan and half congratulating the two; but much like Jack, there’s a sinking feeling in his chest. Love in a land deep into war was rare and utterly beautiful, but dangerous and heartbreaking. He looks away from the two and stares at Dan instead, whose cheeks are flushed and curls falling into his dark brown eyes whilst muttering “I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” under his breath. It’s not that Phil doesn’t like Dan because he does and he loves him more than life, in a different way to Thomas and Atticus’ newfound blossoming relationship, but it’s that every second he spends with Dan he wonders if it’s going to be the last.

Dan and Phil had been attached at the hip since they were teenagers and for years since then, not much has changed. Sometimes when Witches spend enough time together their souls start to bond with each other, in a romantic or platonic way, they call it a bond similar to marriage, a sign that the two will be together forever in their relationship whether that is as lovers or as brothers. Together, their powers become stronger and when away from each other the bond and their control over their element weaken. When one half of the soulbond dies then the bond dies with it. Over time many Witches have explained it like half of your own soul has been ripped away and most do not last long alone after this.

The idea of losing Dan was Phil’s worst fear, and it was a sentiment returned. The ebony-haired man knew he would lose every piece of himself should the other die, and honestly, there wasn’t much of life for him beyond his best friend, his brother and his partner in crime. Looking at Thomas and Atticus now and knowing that destruction could fall on them at any minute he has to ask himself how they do it, how they willingly enter such a dangerous affair without the knowledge of the future or the certainty of any of them making out alive. He supposed, quietly to himself, that they’re lonely and that they’re young and nobody on this Earth with the capability of feeling it wants anything more than love. He doesn’t want anything more than love either.

Dan’s smile breaks him from his thoughts and he smiles in return as he watches Atticus bury his face in his hands and Thomas smile bashfully. No he really couldn’t blame them at all, looking at Thomas’ face now it’s the first time he’s seen such content and peaceful looks on his face; with his boyfriend shouldering some of the worry and pain and fear he suddenly looks much younger, much happier. He looks back at Dan, who has worry hidden behind a smile too and squeezes his hand comfortingly to reassure him.

They knew what they were doing, and Phil would honestly rather die than prevent them from being happy in the final days or weeks of their lives. They all knew in their own ways that love was never meant to be easy, love came with its scars and bruises even for people who weren’t them. It’s not an easy mountain to climb knowing you would protect someone with your life and live with the knowledge that one day, a day that’s coming quickly for the occupants of this little underground home, they will not be able too.

As they all disperse, Phil squeezes Thomas’ shoulder quickly and the American man thinks he sees tears in the other’s eyes but before he can ask the elder is gone, walking away alongside Dan the way he always does. Then his mind is diverted by a soft kiss on his cheek and a giggle and it slips his mind in favor of warm arms wrapped around him and a head against his chest.

\--

“I’m trying not to set you on fire Atticus,” The younger boy laughs and dodges faster and faster “It would be very counterproductive,” Thomas sits at the side with a cup of coffee and watches as Jack hurls balls of fire, making the ball dissipate in the air before they reach Atticus to train the other in his speed. “But if you keep going this slowly I’m not going to be able to stop it,” The Irishman teases before letting his hands fall to his sides. “Thomas your turn, show him how it’s done,”

The American stands with a grin, placing a gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s head as he passes him before taking the space that the elder had previously been sat in. Thomas doesn’t really dodge whatever Jack throws at him, the two look as mischievous as each other as they brace their hands and minds for what could be perceived as a friendly match, like a game of football, except the ball is actually made of fire.

Jack throws first and his opponent extinguishes it before it’s even formed but a second bubbles from its ashes and hurls towards Thomas, who sends it firing in another direction. They’re both grinning, adrenaline pumping as they send attacks and build defenses one straight after the other, dodging and dancing around each other. For the spectator, it was interesting to watch, it filled him with a sense of ease as he watched the two battle in a way that only friends could, best friends, Atticus admired their friendship to no end.

In truth, he’d held some jealousy for Jack at first but it resolved pretty quickly once he got to know the Irishman, who was filled with layers of respect and love for his friends, no his family. He liked to protect people, help people and teach more than anything and Jack would happily pick up all the misfits and strays he could to help them find a home in him. He was just that sort of person.

He also has a fiery attitude and five different levels of sarcasm which was an art that the newcomer could most truly respect and enjoy. The two are laughing as they finally lower their hands, clapping each other on the back and bringing Atticus from his thoughts as they move towards him.

They’re stopped in their tracks by a low, rumbling noise, causing looks of panic to switch between them. “Hall, now,” The cup of coffee is knocked to the floor and left with a clang behind in an empty room as the three men take off in the direction of the hall. The corridors suddenly seem much longer than usual, much darker and sinister as they wind through the labyrinth to meet the center of their fears.

Dan and Phil sprint in from the other end, half holding onto each other as they ran not wanting to risk losing each other in the havoc. The noise could be heard through the long corridors and Thomas swallowed on his air, hands shaking but braced and ready to fight. Dodie and Lucia are stood as far back from the entrances as they could with their hands also braced in a defensive position. Suddenly there is silence, long and haunting silence and somewhere one of them is crying but Thomas can’t place who until he hears Dan’s shaky voice “I don’t want to die, life was just getting good,”

All of them feel that statement in their bones, life was getting good for them all; they had each other in their little family underground. But all good things must come to an end, even themselves.

The door opens, all of them step back a little and Jack’s hands are already on fire whilst Thomas’ hand is frantically reaching for his boyfriend’s in a last and desperate attempt to just feel him there. There’s a moment of anticipation, of fear, of anger, but what walks through the door is not who they expect. There’s a lot of them in various shapes and sizes, Thomas makes out Sophie’s face and a Joan that looks less than perfect but much better than the last time he’d seen them. Thomas’ breath runs out for a second before he’s racing over, Jack hot on his heels. “Joan!” He scoops the smaller person in his arms and held him close “Oh fuck, I’m so glad to see you again buddy, I’m so fucking glad,” His eyes are watering as he meets Sophie’s tight smile and then Talyn, who looks as small and unthreatening as ever, taking in the sight of familiar faces and then many, many more. “Where did all these people…?”

“They’ve come to fight with you Thomas, all of them, Witches from all around the world are talking about you, it seems word got out that a prophecy is being fulfilled,” She smiles and places a hand on his shoulder “See Thomas, when you came to us we had no idea who or what you were and things became more apparent over time, but you were destined to be here at this moment, and I’m sorry I had to leave you alone but I knew you would be safe, because it is your destiny to defeat these people, it’s written in time itself,” The man’s eyes raise “You are the most powerful Witch alive on this Earth, and tonight when those doors come knocking down you’re going to see why,”

“What am I going to do Sophie?” He asks breathlessly, stepping closer “What…what is this destiny?” There’s silence, the hush of chatter ceases and Sophie smiles, looking at Joan who steps forward and places their hands on the other’s shoulders.

“We’re going to defeat them, and you are going to win this battle, and for now, that’s all you need to know,” Looking small and somewhat terrified, Atticus stands behind Thomas, his fingertips seeking the hem of his boyfriend’s jumper for some security in a very unfamiliar situation. Joan smiles at the smaller boy, and holds their hand out for the other to shake. “Sorry my name is Joan, this is Sophie, we built this place sort of, well we staffed it and looked after it, so did Talyn,” Talyn, who was never much of a talker also waved. “We should probably start getting ready, they’re coming tonight, it has to be tonight,” The people walking past looked at Thomas with awe, some giving shy smiles and small waves, others simply staring.

What had exactly gone on on the surface whilst he’d been sat underground for the last…month? Perhaps longer, perhaps shorter he wasn’t exactly sure the day or time anymore. He turns around and looks at Atticus, bringing his hands into his and pressing soft kisses against the backs of them. Inside his mind he could hear Patton saying “aww!” and Roman giggling whilst Logan and Virgil made noises that sounded mostly like “Eurgh,” He smiles and brings Atticus into a hug, kissing the top of his head.

“Everything’s going to be okay, I hope,” And for the first time in so very long, he thinks perhaps they will be. Thomas turns to Jack, his fingertips interlaced with Atticus’ still as he does, not wanting to let go and lose him in a suddenly very full place. “Did you know, about a prophecy, about me?” The Irishman looks a little sheepish, his cheeks flushing red as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I mean, I may have had the tiniest inkling, as in…” he sighs “Okay, I vaguely knew you were a big deal when you first got here, a Manifestor that can master all four elements comes walking through the doors that’s not an everyday occurrence, but we all knew to some extent you would have a very big role to play in the future of Witches and Humans alike, and that this moment would eventually come, we knew you would have to fight and we knew you were at risk and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner but if I did it could affect everything, people aren’t supposed to know their destinies for a reason,”

Thomas understands he’s upset that Jack had kept something so important from him but he knows he would never do it out of spite. He was worried about him and his future and through it all knowing that staying would end in bloodshed, Jack chose to stay with him. They were best friends, and so much more powerful together and when that door gets knocked in, Thomas knows that the other man will still be by his side.

“It’s okay,” He says with a warm smile and lets go of Atticus’ hand to open his arms for a hug to Jack, who accepts warmly. “Just promise me it will be you fighting beside me tonight and not…not him, okay?” they nod in understanding, neither of them wanted to dwell on the thought of Anti escaping the confines of Jack’s mind again.

“I promise,”

\--


	23. Chapter 23: There's no such thing as everybody lives

The hall was crowded now, everyone prepared and ready almost like they were troops in line for war. Some people had specific partners, some people grouped by element. The strongest, elders and best trained stood in front with looks of unease whilst the younger ones stood by groups with expressions that said they were not afraid to die tonight. Some part of Thomas wants to tell them to run, that they shouldn’t have to fight, and that they were too young to be doing this; but much like Dan and Phil and Jack and Atticus, even given the choice he doesn’t think they would run.

He gets the feeling they’ve already been given the chance.

Atticus stood beside him to his right, his hand intertwined with his own with an expression of defiance written all over his solemn face. On his left was Jack, whose face was set between fear and excitement, adrenaline so clearly already pumping through his veins and some part of the American knows his friend enjoys this just a little, the danger, the fear, the act of feeling useful in a battle that shouldn’t truly exist. It’s written into their genes that they are natural fighters, it’s why they have a class just for it, but that doesn’t mean all of them quite enjoy that.

Next to Jack were Dan and Phil, clutching hands so tightly their knuckles were turning white. They too were looking scared and not much else but he knew it wasn’t for themselves, but for each other. They were soulmates to some extent, they had only had each other for years and tonight could stand to change everything for them, but they had nowhere to run or hide, only stand and fight and hope to any living god out there in the vast expanse of the universe, that they’d both come out of it together.

Dodie and Lucia were at the back, with Lucia acting as a defense so that Dodie and another young healer, whose name Thomas didn’t know, could deal with the casualties. Everyone was either talking with each other in hushed tones or preparing for a battle in their own ways, conjuring small elements and making them disappear like an actor going over their roles before a show. 

Everyone here was just as nervous as the other and Thomas can feel his hands shaking. He turns to look at Atticus, with his breath heavy and his eyes focused, full of fear “I love you,” He says with brave certainty, his hands clasping the other’s and holding them firmly to his chest with a hold that begged the other never to let go. “If it’s the last and only chance I might get to say that, I love you, and I need you to know that,” He feels like his soul is slipping through his fingertips for a moment, seeping into the other man’s grip as Atticus gives a watery smile.

“I love you too Thomas, and I’ll always be here,” he moves his hand to place over Thomas’ chest, where he thinks his heart might be. “Always,” Thomas’ hand comes to the back of the other’s head, playing with the hair at the nape of it before bringing his lover into a warm kiss full of gentleness and warmth.

‘It’s going to be okay, Thomas,’ he hears at the back of his head, identifying the voices as they spoke in unison, even Logan’s voice had become softer, more afraid as if the logical side was even able to experience such a thing. The interesting thing was however that he may be so very afraid, and yet Virgil sounded quiet, he felt calm and collected and ready, accepting how the next few hours of their lives may pan out. Perhaps his Anxiety knew something that he did not as his nervous energy fell away to be replaced by hungry adrenaline. ‘Are you ready Thomas?’ he knows this as Roman, whose voice sounds firm and brave and ready.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Thomas replies with a firm smile. In his hands an object slowly appeared, manifesting from what was once his subconscious. Roman’s sword. A smile breaks over his face as he holds it in his hand and standing back from Atticus a little as the other man reaches out to touch the hilt, he held it up to the light and as the light hit the blade, a scatter of colors wove through it, from purple to turquoise, to blue and finally settling on red. His sides were with him now in a physical presence and Roman wanted him to know that.

Logan appears beside him with no summons, startling the two of them. “Just me,” He says defensively, holding up his hands “Objects can be enchanted to harness some of your power, kind of like a database storing residual energy, it should lessen the chances of burnout and should you need to use a lot of energy at once you can use the sword to direct your attack, you will have to focus and imagine little pieces of your energy falling into it, but otherwise I just wanted to say…uh…good luck, from all of us, we believe in you Thomas, and you too Atticus,” Thomas nods and squeezes Logan’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Logan,” The logical side nods with a taught and strained smile before he is gone, leaving the two alone in a room full of people. “Good luck Atticus,” The American says gently to his boyfriend “Try and stay with me so I know you’re here, yeah?” Looking around at the many people here that could prove to be a very difficult task, but at the very least it was something they should try to do. Atticus nods, but no words fall from his mouth as they’re interrupted.

“Are you guys ready?” Joan pops up beside them “Now’s probably not the time but you two are really cute and I needed some happiness in my cold, dark heart,” They snort “That’s not why I came over though, it’s soon, if I were you I’d start seriously preparing yourself, get your attack plans sorted, your lives depend on it,” They meet Thomas’ eyes “And good luck, try not to get me killed again,” There’s a smile on their face but they can both see the fear underneath it.

“Are you ready?” Thomas asks Atticus, his hands reaching for theirs, firmly it is accepted and their fingers intertwine.

“Yeah, I’m ready,”

\--

The doors pound, the walls each bouncing the sounds off of them as the noise of static fills their ears. There’s the sound of heavy footfall, of shouting as everyone finds their place on the frontline, preparing with powers, weapons, shields. There was not a single person stood still as they all crowded around the room, sealing every entrance with their own will and determination, ready for the attack.

The first sound of the door breaking down startles everyone, but no one diverts their gaze from where it should be. Fire blazes and the heat that radiates off of it fills the room, curled only by a whirl of air fanning and taming the flames. Thomas can hear screaming, he can hear shouting, he can hear fighting but his gaze is not diverted, there’s a plan and he must stick to it. They have to clear out the first wave before they can scatter. 

The next door to come down is the one that Thomas’ helping defend, his hands turn cold in seconds as Jack sends fire pouring and the other man helps control the flame with air, directing it to a concentrated push before using it to fan the flames into a wall of heat that engulfed the attackers. Screams filled Thomas’ ears but his heart is already pounding too loud for him to properly hear. Atticus puts out the fire when none of them are left standing before Thomas calls out “Go!” The three of them, followed by Dan and Phil and hoard of people charge through, now in the tunnels, it would be easier to take them out but it would also be easier for them to be attacked.

Thomas and Jack take the lead with Atticus just behind them and Dan and Phil behind him, whilst a scattering of people joined them in nervous chatter. “Does everyone know where they’re supposed to go and be?” The American calls out over his shoulder, to be met with a chorus of affirmation. “Alright then, split,” As they reach the intersection of the tunnel people began to head off in their direction Dan and Phil hang back for a second. “Good luck guys,”

“You too,”

Jack, Thomas, and Atticus stood alone at the intersection, each facing a different way as they prepared for the worst. Jack watches Dan and Phil’s retreating figures with nervousness, they were his friends after all and the panic at the thought of them all being split up left a trace of anxiety on his heart. “Are you two doing okay?” He asks in a shaky whisper, anything to distract from the growing pit of doubt in his stomach.

“Yeah,” Thomas replies, but his face looks exactly how Jack is currently feeling and all he can see is the back of Atticus’ head, from the lack of response the Irishman could only assume he didn’t have the same amount of energy to lie in his current state as Thomas did. There’s a déjà vu to this situation; he and Thomas stood in clouded halls, the echoing sounds of screaming climbing up to where they stand. He remembers the smell of sulfur, the charred ground the cracked walls and the sight of dead bodies lying on the floor, bodies of the people whose names he’d known and faces he’d seen pass him on a day to day basis. This was going to happen again now; he was going to have to haul dead bodies into a room for the third time after all this.

Noise distracts him and his hands are suddenly on fire again, whilst Thomas had the slights of leaves curling around his arms. There’s two coming from each direction, but all of them are prepared. A wall of water floods Atticus’ tunnel, stilling and suffocating its occupants in a quick, clean and swift movement. On Thomas side the tunnels seemed to grow thick trees from its midst, entangling the advancing witches and snapping their bones in a series of sickening crunches, whereas Jack’s tunnel had become a picture of hell, a twist of flames had killed the intruders before a single scream had even emitted from their mouth. He can see a twist in the other’s expressions, looking pained, sick.

It was us or them, is repeated in their heads. It’s repeated as a rhythm builds and there’s now a small pile of bodies building; Atticus looks pale as he turns to face the two of them, like the souls he’d just killed now lived in his heart and he had to carry them forever. He turns back, his attention focused on the tunnel, despite everything this still felt wrong to him, despite the fact he is under attack his morality is not something separate like it is with Jack or Thomas, it’s ingrained in his heart and it can’t tell him itself that what he’s doing is okay.

The next lot of witches seemed to have learned from their predecessors as they step forward and attack before they get the chance, fighting against them was more taxing than just killing them as Jack’s fire rages against pooling water and Atticus’ water pushed against fierce bouts of fire. Thomas’ firm branches and climbing ivy attacks were being pushed backward by the strongest winds he’d ever felt. Attack after attack came and their defenses were only met by firmer attacks. Jack is the first to push forward, the energy crawling through him as one foot stepped in front of the other, pushing back at the water until it has been engulfed, and with it, the Witches hosting the power. He immediately turns to help the others, tunneling water with fire to push back at the fire attacks Atticus was receiving.

This left his entire tunnel unguarded, however, a precedent that was perhaps predicted as he and Atticus are both grabbed from behind and suddenly they were gone. Thomas whipped around at the sounds of their cries, before his attack is doubled in rage, hurling fire down both ends until the people down them are nothing but charred bones and ash. Immediately he takes off down the tunnel that the two had disappeared down, his sword drawn and burning in his hands as he takes on each and every attack, slicing through opponents as the only predominant thing he feels is a sheer rage.

There’s a new voice in his head.

It sounds like hot coals in a fire, echoing like Virgil’s does when he’s upset or panicking, it’s loud and overwhelming and fuels his anger further and further as every single Witch that stands to confront him lasts less than a second. This was not Thomas anymore, this was fury. Fury at his friends being taken from him, fury at the mere idea they were only in danger because of him in the first place and fury because nobody touches his best friends and lives.

The corridor opens up to a room, he’s silhouetted against the door with piles of bodies trailed behind him in a massacre much greater than the confines of his flesh and bones. Perhaps he has his own Anti, and this right here was him.

In the room stood what could have been a man. His eyes are black, skin pale and teeth like needles, carved into sharp points so that when this creature smiled all that was seen was a row of thorns protruding from gums. The skin around his eyes was purple, the rest so pale he could’ve been carved from marble and he stands still, very still, a predator seconds away from hunting his prey.

Cloaked in black, like an old story of Witches would portray, a single pendant hung from around his neck, his eyes roll and turn white. Thomas’s bones shudder at the sight and his stomach clenches in protest to the sight. “Thomas Sanders,” He steps forward “Now when I studied the prophecy, I wasn’t expecting someone so young to step into my midst, to challenge me and defeat me, but I also don’t believe in prophecies, I do believe however that you have two choices,” He hears muffled shouting, voices he recognizes as Jack and Atticus calling, he steps forward, his sword pointing at the other. “You can come with us, join us, or you can fight me and die, and with you so will your little friends,” Thomas doesn’t believe in prophecies either, but he does believe in people, he believes in Joan and Jack and Atticus and Dan and Phil, and when they said that he could do this, he believed them.

Right now, he needs to believe that more than ever.

He hurls his first attack, fire, in the form of a boiling ball aimed straight at the other’s chest, but it freezes and turns to air before it makes its target, he sends more flying but it is met with the same resistance. Frustrated, he builds a hurricane in his hand and sends it curling toward his opponent, but it dies halfway in collision with one on his path.

The two encircle each other, engaging in a dance of to and from, attacks of different elements fire across the room in a heated ablaze. One man with everything to lose suddenly feels the anger spike up again. He thinks of Atticus, of his eyes, soft and warm, looking up at him with a sea of emotion that he could dive right into; he imagines his hands holding his own and his lips curled into a smile and then he imagines all that ripped away from him. The sword.

His body vibrates with energy as he attacks again, rebutted each and every time, his defense becomes stronger with every deflection. The two were going to be at a stalemate for a while. But he has one thing that this creature does not have and will never have, one thing that is more powerful of a catalyst for his magic than anything in the world. He has love. And right now his love was his fury, his sadness, his turmoil, and his calm building into a hurricane of energy that with every attack as growing stronger and slipping into his sword to a point where the colors glowed in the dim light of the room. The creature looks confused as he continues attacking and deflecting and that confusion was the only weakness he needed him to show.

“Ever heard of the sword in the stone?” Thomas asks a smirk on his lips as Fury grins. “Have fun digging this one out,” He slams the sword into the ground and all the lights go out as the surface cracks underneath it. Like a storm is in the room, all four elements combined in a deadly attack spun from it and Thomas launched himself out of the room as the screams of the Witch echoed behind him.

As he pulls himself into the corridor through the opposing door from that in which he entered the room through, he sees two more Witches, but they’re not moving, they’re standing still and unsure, looking at Thomas and into the room behind him. “You…you did it?” Jack asks, his voice sounding no louder than a mere whisper, his eyes are wide in shock and his lips hang parted as he stumbles over his word “Prophecy or not Thomas you’re…one hell of a man,” He yanks the other into a hug and Atticus stumbles to join them. The storm dies down in the room behind them and there’s one immobile creature on the floor.

Thomas turns to enter the room again, pulling the sword from the ground, walking over to the creature; he prods it a few times before turning it over to look at the gaunt face devoid of light. Well, that was nightmare fuel for the next few months. “Yeah…I guess I did, was this like their leader or something?”

“Yeah, High Priest I think they call them, this was their leader, famously known as the most powerful witch on this planet and you killed him,” Jack is looking pale and Thomas suddenly feels exhausted. “You need to rest, let’s get you back to the hall,”

“What about…them,”

The two Witches that had been stood into the corridor had now fallen to their knees, looking up at Thomas. “I’ll take care of them, Atticus you help Thomas down to the hall and I’ll join you in a few seconds,” He hears a slight crack and a static sound that sounds like a Glitch trying to break through a system. Thomas nods in understanding, knowing that in a few moments it won’t be Jack they’re talking too.

Atticus and Thomas head towards the hall, with the American becoming more and more tired by the minute, his feet drag against the ground and his weight falls on the other boy causing him to stumble. When they reach it however they’re met with quite the scene, expecting tears and anguish over the mourning and loss of loved ones there was a celebration, Sophie comes running up to the two and bowls Thomas into a hug, causing him to almost fall. “You did it, you did it, no casualties Thomas, none at all, we easily overwhelmed them, everyone is safe,” His eyes begin to water and he looks around, looking for distinctively familiar faces. “For once, just this once, everybody lives,”

He finds them in the hospital beds, of course. Dan’s very much broken his arm and Phil has a few burns but otherwise they’re both entirely fine, they’re smiling “Thomas Sanders I could fucking kiss you right now,” Dan exclaims, practically drinking the medication from the bottle as Dodie tries hard to snatch it away from him over exclamations “You did it,”

“What happened to the Witches you were fighting?” He asks, sitting down on the bed next to them as Atticus leaned his head against his shoulder. “And how did you break your arm again?” Phil looks exhausted, with a smile of fondness on his lips as he stared at the other British man.

“Well we slaughtered a good few,” Dan supplies with a shrug “We had a good teacher I guess,” Thomas blushes just a little “Suddenly they all just stopped, like a hive mind it was weird, they stopped fighting and fell to their knees and then we just took care of them whilst we could,” He yawns “I need some sleep, I think we all do, but first I need my arm fixing wait…where’s Jack?” Thomas blinks for a moment, looking around, he couldn’t see the Irishman in the mix of people and he had said he’d be here in a few seconds.

But he was so very tired.

“I’m not sure,” he replies, eyelids heavy as he lies down “He’ll be here soon I’m sure,” And despite all the noise and Virgil screaming for him to wake up, he falls straight to sleep.

\--

When he wakes up things are a little quieter, some people stood around talking and Dan and Phil had gone, assumedly to bed, Atticus sat on a chair next to him talking to Dodie, he sits up, there’s still no sign of Jack. Anxiety tightens in his chest and he sits up straight, eyes darting around, his breath falls short for a moment. Maybe he just went to bed? He looks at Atticus, whose eyebrows are furrowed. “Are you okay?” He asks, standing up to comfort the other.

“Where’s Jack?” Are the first words that fall from his mouth, but the confusion on the other’s face only deepens, he looks at Dodie who blinks and looks around the room, as if trying to recall some information. “Have you guys seen him? Has he come back yet?”

“I…uh…Thomas, I think you need to lie down,” Atticus says, putting a hand on his boyfriend’s chest, only to have it pushed away, there’s a frantic look on Thomas’ face.

“No, I don’t, where is he? I need to go and find him,” Dodie lays a calming hand on his shoulder but it doesn’t work, it won’t work, not when he’s so desperate to find his friend, he slides off the bed and looks around the room, feeling his chest constrict. “Atticus, have you seen him?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know what you mean Thomas,” The silence is suddenly a deafening noise, the world around his seems to stop making any form of sense, no sounds, no touch, nothing as Atticus words fall onto his chest “I don’t know a Jack,” He steps back, shaking his head. Dodie gives a small and comforting smile, but it only makes him feel worse. Surely they remember Jack? Who could forget him? He turns and he runs, heading back to the room he had fought the Witch in, it’s empty except for the dead bodies, for a moment.

“Jack?” There’s a glitching noise “No not you, you’re not who I fucking want to…” He turns around and Anti melts into the man he wants to see “Why don’t they remember you?” He steps forward and Jack gives a small smile, leaning against the wall, it’s a tight smile and there’s tears welling in his eyes “Jack what’s happening please talk to me,”

“Because I wanted them to forget, I wanted you to forget too, but it was somehow harder to let you go,” The man steps forward “I don’t have long left,” He says in a simple tone and he sits down on the floor, watching fire bounce over his fingertips in reminiscent of all the times they’d trained together. “Pretty soon I’m not going to be me anymore Thomas, I’m going to be him, he’s eating me apart from the inside, killing me, I asked him to make you all forget if there’s anything he’ll do to me and he might hate me but there’s nothing he has against you, so he did it, except when he got to you he said your mind was too strong, that you were rejecting the glitch that he was trying to put in your brain,”

Thomas is crying, no, he’s sobbing as he falls to his knees beside his best friend “You need to let him Thomas, it will take all this away it will make you feel better, not many people have this chance,” He brings him into a hug, as he rests his head on Jack’s shoulder. “I love you kid, you were the best friend I ever had, but I’m dying, and you’ve known for a while, I know you’ve known, and now it’s time to face the truth, let me make it easier,” Thomas relaxes against his friend’s shoulder, softening against him. “Goodbye Thomas,”

“I love you, Jack,”

Then the world shifts for a second, he’s alone in a room and for the life of him, he can’t remember how he got there.


	24. Chapter 24: and now the night has come to an end

When Thomas finds Atticus again, he smiles and brings him into a kiss “Sorry I wandered off,” He chuckles, taking the other’s hand in his with gentle ease. “I’m not sure why or what for, anyway, have you seen Dan and Phil? We should probably go see how they’re doing,” Atticus looks at him for a second like he wants to ask further, but instead, he just smiles and nods, they look over at Dodie who gives a small smile, but there’s something wrong with it...like it’s forced. Lucia interrupts their train of thought by bowling Atticus over into a hug before hugging Thomas too.

“Let’s go find those nerds,” She says brightly and all of them turn back to Dodie again but she simply waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll catch up guys, I just have to…check something,” They nod and walk off towards their room, chattering away with all the leftover adrenaline they had. Dodie sits on the edge of the bed with her eyebrows furrowed, muttering a name over and over again before she stands with purpose, carrying herself firmly to the first aid room. Pushing the door open, she opens the filing cabinet, and begins rifling through the papers knowing there is certainly, someone, she is looking for although she remembers no face and no surname that name that Thomas had spoken sounded like she’d heard him say it before, somehow and she had no recollection.

“Jack,” She grabs three folders with that name, the first two had faces and names she recognized and the last she didn’t but at some point she had treated him because his name was on this file and his face. “Sean William McLoughlin prefers to be called Jack, born in Ireland,” She pauses, reading through “Treated for clinical depression, sporadic anger, broken wrist and bruising, scarring,” There’s a long list of issues this man had had in the time he’d been here, surely someone who had been here since they were in their early 20’s she would remember, she had been here from the beginning and from the looks of it so had he. “So why the hell don’t I remember you?” She cussed, throwing the folder onto the top and running a stressed hand through her hair. Her eyebrows raise for a second before she grabbed the folder again “He was a Manifestor,” She mutters, before her eyes grow wide “Whose sides could repossess him easily,” Her jaw clenches “Either he doesn’t want us to remember or one of his sides do not, which means,” Her face breaks into a grin, before falling again “Mr McLoughlin I don’t know who or where you are but something tells me you’re in trouble,” She gives herself a small, sad smile “And I’m a sucker for people who need my help,” She grabs her bag off the top, shoving the folder into her bag before taking off towards the control room.

\--

Virgil is not happy, he’s pacing furiously with tears in his eyes, Patton looks so completely heartbroken and Logan for once looks completely dumbfounded. “I don’t understand how we still remember, but he doesn’t, at least Logan should forget right?”

“He’s not forgotten that’s why Virgil, I mean he has but somewhere at the back of his mind, he knows Jack, he knows he’s still alive and out there and…” Patton trails off, there are tears rolling down his cheeks “He’s in danger, Jack’s in danger we need to save him but do we have time?” They spin around to look at Logan who runs a hand through his hair leaning off the wall, for once he had no words to articulate a situation and simply waves a hand with a shake of his head.

“I don’t know, I have no idea,” He says with defeat in his voice. “However if Anti has glitched Thomas’ system so to speak then we know who is generally in charge of keeping things hidden from Thomas,” The four of them straighten their backs, and Patton steps backward and shakes his head. “It’s the logical conclusion, if Anti truly could not finish the job then he had a quick conversation with someone to keep it hidden, the others were not Manifestors, powerful, but not Manifestors, which means the Glitch would have head to get through less complicated means to erase Jack from their memories because they didn’t have us, Patton and I literally categorically store all of Thomas’ memories, information, data, and seal it in a way it’s almost impossible to delete, tamper with but not erase,”

“He’s not going anywhere near Patton,” Roman mutters firmly, “I’ll go and talk to him,” Virgil draws closer to Patton whose arms are crossed against his chest and he’s looking down at his feet, he looks so small and scared. Logan, however, steps forward and shakes his head.

“No, you’re too emotionally charged, you’re easy to mess with don’t deny it, he’s a master of manipulation, I’ll go, I am the only one with the ability to know hard truth from lies because I can understand fabrication, the three of you will be too vulnerable to your emotions,” Roman steps back with a small nod, looking at Virgil whose arm is now around Patton’s shoulder, he nods.

“You go L,”

\--

Thomas sits with his head on Atticus’ lap, the five of them all talking away like the pain and trauma they’d dealt with had just melted into background noise whilst they reveled in the fact that they were just…okay. Apart from a few scrapes and Dan’s broken arm, they were all completely fine and it wasn’t something they’d ever dreamed of achieving before.

Dan’s head is resting on Phil’s chest on the floor, Lucia is throwing pieces of biscuit at them, complaining they should get a room whilst the boys blush and laugh. When the laughter dies down, however, Thomas realizes something, a small detail that didn’t make sense to him. Including Dodie, there were six of them…so why were there seven beds on the cramped space of the floor?

He sits up for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, Atticus sits up with him with a worried expression on his face. “Thomas are you okay?” The cogs in his head are whirring and all attention is on him, he looks at them all and their expressions varying from concern to worry on each of them.

“Where’s Dodie?” He says softly and the other four shrug, looking at the door. “We should go and find her,” There’s a strange feeling in his chest as he stands like something is so terribly wrong and it’s on the tip of his tongue but he just can’t say it. “I’m anxious about something, but I can’t remember what,” He looks at the terrarium of flowers, they’re growing but there’s no sunlight “How have those flowers been growing with no light?” His voice scratches in his throat. “And why…” He exhales slowly “Why are there seven beds but only six of us?”

Everyone goes very quiet; slowly they all begin to stand up. “Do you get the feeling something…someone’s missing?” Phil asks, looking at them all “Because since I woke up something’s felt weird and I can’t quite put a finger too it,” Thomas studies them all, those plants couldn’t grow without light or him constantly 24/7 pouring his energy into them, what creates light? A fire elemental, but there was no fire here, not a ball of light, he could have easily conjured that up and left it there that didn’t require constant growth and nurturing. But he hadn’t, and yet the plants were growing.

“We’re all tired,” Dan says softly “Maybe the stress is just making us paranoid, all the lights went out before, maybe it just took your small sun with it, as for the mattresses, if that’s what you call a bed, well we could’ve easily just added one in for extra rolling room,” Thomas looks down at his feet “We should sleep a little more, I think we’re all just a little anxious,” The American nods shortly, before sitting down on the bed.

Atticus crawls into bed with him, leaving an extra spare mattress on the floor as the two fell asleep intertwined with each other. Trying to breathe easily, Thomas focuses on the fact that he has his boyfriend in one piece in his hands, and all his best friends are still intact. 

\--

TO BE CONTINUED: NOVEMBER 2019


End file.
